


Out of the Fire, into the Frying Pan

by GenderbentUnicorn



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:52:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenderbentUnicorn/pseuds/GenderbentUnicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After escaping 8 years of imprisonment by Ivan, Gilbert is certain things can only get better, but when his friends just won't stop asking questions and the only two people he's ever loved are getting married, how the hell is he supposed to cope? AU AustriaxHungaryxPrussia</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Swearing; polyamory; male and female homosexuality(that shouldn't even be a warning, but someone's bound to complain otherwise ^^'); implied incest; mentions of rape/sexual abuse; alcohol use etc.

Antonio stared outside through the pouring rain and then back at his watch. 17:11. He frowned and went back to trying to get a clear view of the world outside of his house.

Gilbert was seriously late, the lunchtime he had planned to catch up with his old friend had passed and at three o'clock he had gloomily eaten by himself. On any other day he would have eaten with Francis or Lovino, but Lovino was spending the day convincing his brother not to move in with Ludwig and Francis was far too hung over to do anything, but that was hardly anything new…

Lost in his thoughts, Antonio failed to notice exactly what he'd been searching for until a flash of red caught his eye right by the window. Startled, he ran to the door and for the first time that whole day he actually began to feel nervous, he hadn't seen Gilbert for years, eight in fact, holy shit, had it been that long already?

He began to imagine in his head what Gilbert might look like now, had he changed his hair from that blinding white he had always been teased about in school? Or maybe he wore glasses now, that would be a laugh! Or maybe he had even gotten fat! As the doorbell rang, Antonio cursed his thoughts for once again going off on a tangent and fiddled with the dodgy lock on the door and opened it to reveal his old friend.

But for all the many things that Antonio could have imagined had happened to Gilbert, he could never quite have comprehended that Gilbert would look exactly the fucking same. Sure, his hair was sopping wet(why the hell hadn't he brought an umbrella?) and there was something missing in his eyes but other than that he looked like the rough teenage boy who thought himself too awesome for words, with that ridiculous bird still perched on his unruly white hair.

Gilbert looked up at him – whoa, Antonio had forgotten how _red_ those eyes were – and grinned, "Yo".

Antonio couldn't help himself, he grinned back, "Yo, welcome home man." And he stood back to let Gilbert in.

It was only now that Antonio realised Gilbert didn't have any luggage. Well, he had a small backpack slung over his shoulder, but surely he had more belongings than that? Back in secondary school, Gilbert had loved to collect stuff, apparently to make his room look sufficiently awesome. Antonio could also recall that Gilbert rarely bought these things, stealing had been a favourite game for he, Francis and Gilbert, not that he was proud of doing so now.

"Ain'tcha got any luggage?" he asked.

Gilbert pulled the bag off his shoulder and lifted it up, "I got this"

"Nothin' else?"

"Nah, just this"

Antonio shrugged and strolled into the kitchen, "You hungry?" He shouted through to Gilbert. Gilbert strolled in after him, "Sure, what are you planning to cook?"

"Pasta or something?"

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, "Pasta?"

"Yeah, I eat a lot of it now, 'cause Lovi and his brother really like it"

Another grin spread across Gilbert's face, but there was something missing from it, it was something that had happened during their last couple of years at school too, but Antonio chose not to dwell on it now and instead focus on answering Gilbert's teasing question, "And who's Lovi?"

He was just opening his mouth to respond when Gilbert interrupted, "Scrap that last question, how _old_ is Lovi?"

Antonio laughed as he poured boiling water into the pan, "You know me far too well. He's actually twenty-two; I'm quite impressed with myself." He'd gotten into quite a bit of trouble at school because he was accused of getting a little too close to the younger students.

Gilbert just nodded at that, but he looked uncomfortable, his arms were drawn across his chest and he was slouched over, the cockiness from his youth seemed to have faded. Maybe he'd changed more than Antonio had originally believed.

There was silence for a couple of minutes before Gilbert blurted, "Isn't Francis living with you?"

"Yeah, but he went out drinking with some friends last night, and I think it got pretty insane, he's not feeling so good. I could try and drag him outta his slumber if ya want."

"It's cool, you finish cooking, I'll get him. Where's his room?"

"It's downstairs, across the hallway, you can tell which it is 'cause of the weird posters on his door."

Antonio watched his friend go and frowned, he wanted to ask him what was wrong, because it was obvious from his attitude and Ludwig's letter that everything was certainly not right. But Ludwig had also insisted that he not ask Gilbert too many questions. He had rang Ludwig after that to ask what was up, but from his vague answers he wondered whether Ludwig even knew what was up with his brother.

Eventually, when they were all sat round the table, Francis complaining about how he had been woken by having Gilbird repeatedly peck his eye, Antonio decided he may as well try to get _something_ out of him.

"So, where ya been all this time? You just left without saying a word, it's like ya just disappeared off the face of the planet."

Gilbert looked down, "I was…with someone for a long time, too long." He paused briefly. "I felt like it was time to move on."

Francis laughed, "Too long indeed! Imagine only sleeping with one person for eight years?"

Gillbert looked increasingly as if he didn't want to be there. Antonio frowned again, his answer had sounded practised and it hadn't been entirely helpful, but Gilbert didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it right now. He decided to change the subject, maybe he would manage to wheedle something out of him by talking generally.

"Anyway, Lovino might be coming round tonight or tomorrow, he seems to have a thing against Germans but ya never know, he might like you."

"Pffft. Probably, I'm freaking awesome."

Francis grinned, "That is the first time I 'ave 'eard you say 'awesome' since I woke up. It's good to know you 'aven't changed!"

A smile broke out on Gilbert's face, "Neither have you! I dread to think how many people you've fucked since I last saw you."

"Ah, I 'ave lost count, whilst Antonio 'as actually managed to find 'imself a stable boyfriend…and a very unpleasant one at that," He added quietly.

"Hey! He's not unpleasant, he's just…shy!"

"'e is not shy!"

Gilbert suddenly stood up, Francis and Antonio quit their pointless argument to look at him, "I, uh, I'm going to bed, early night. I'll see you guys in the morning." And with that he walked out of the room.

Francis waited until he was sure Gilbert was out of earshot before he turned back to Antonio, "What ze 'ell 'appened to 'im?"

"I dunno, but he doesn't seem himself at all."

"You can say zat again! And when I tried to 'ug 'im, 'e completely freaked out."

"And he's so skinny, he looks like he hasn't eaten in _months_."

"And he didn't ask for a beer even onc-" Francis stopped midsentence,

realising Gilbert had returned to the doorway, he looked angry, "Oh no!" Gilbert said, "Don't let me interrupt you! Carry on listing every fucking thing that's wrong with me, carry on talking about just how _fucking_ imperfect I am!"

A dead silence fell over the room, broken only by Gilbert's ragged breathing. After what seemed like forever, Antonio spoke up, "Gil, you know we didn't mean that, we're just worried about you."

"Well don't be." He shot back "I'm fine, okay?" He stormed back upstairs. Francis and Antonio glanced at each other, then ate the rest of their dinner in silence.

Gilbert glanced around his new room; it was pretty big and was dominated by a double bed with a plain quilt lying on top of it. He slumped down on the bed and closed his eyes. He'd lashed out, already. He couldn't believe himself, they had been kind enough to take him in…but who were they to say things about him behind his back?

He lay there for a few minutes before getting up to look at himself in the mirror on the wall, he hadn't really registered how skinny he was, but now that he thought about it, the skin on his face seemed to be clinging to his bones and the first proper meal he'd eaten in years was the one that Ludwig had cooked him when he'd stumbled over his doorway the week before. It had been raining on that day too; it was English springtime after all…

 _Ivan had been gone for about an hour, Gilbert prayed that he'd be gone for at least one more to give him time, not that he would even notice Gilbert was missing straight away anyway, ever since he'd started the therapy sessions he'd been neglecting him completely. Gilbert was thankful, it was far better than what he had had to endure before at any cost._

 _He reached a shaking hand out to his door and pulled. It wasn't locked. Thank God. Quietly as he could, he crept downstairs, no one else was in the house but it seemed almost as if the walls were suspicious of him, that they knew what he was about to do. He went into the kitchen and lifted the vase of sunflowers that sat by the sink, there was a key to the front door there, he knew, he had tried to use it before, very early on when he still had the strength to try to escape. Ivan had never moved the key, he had had other methods of keeping Gilbert from escaping, he seemed to have found it amusing watching him try and fail._

 _Eventually he dragged himself to the front door and shakily put the key in the lock, he wasn't even sure why there was such a lock on the inside, the Russian bastard was fucked up though, nothing in his house was particularly normal. Opening the door seemed strange, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been allowed to go outside and he almost felt too scared to leave, he turned back to the house. Would he miss it? Never. He spat on the floor and stormed outside, allowing the door to slam behind him._

 _At once it started raining, a drop landed on Gilbert's nose, it felt cool, refreshing. When was the last time he had even felt the rain on his skin? It felt like a lifetime ago. And right now, it felt like heaven. He laughed, actually laughed, it sounded so strange and his voice was hoarse from its recent lack of use. He would have stayed right there for hours, would have just lay down and let the rain wash away all of the dirt, all of the memories, if he had not wanted to get away so desperately, so he ploughed on, he knew where to go, to his old home, maybe his Father and Brother still lived there, maybe they'd still remember who he was._

 _He couldn't believe he could recall the way; it had been the day before his long imprisonment with Ivan that he had last walked these roads but his whole body yearned for home and that force seemed to pull him along._

 _Looking around, mostly in fear that Ivan had already noticed his disappearance and was following him, he noticed how much everything had changed in the past eight years, the fish and chip shop he had so loved to go to with Francis and Antonio was now a pizza place and the park he had played in as a boy now had new swings, event the tree that he had always teased the boy with the violin about because he couldn't climb it had been cut down._

 _He also couldn't help noticing how people stared at him, he must have looked dreadful. He hadn't had a wash in weeks, and he'd been wearing the same clothes for days, they were old ones Ivan had bought him a long time ago, cheap and probably Russian-made. His hair had grown quite long too, and seriously unruly, cutting it was one of the first things he planned to do when he got home._

 _Soon enough he had reached the road he had lived on for the first eighteen years of his life. His home. He ran the last stretch, he wasn't sure how, he was so tired and so fucking weak but some new energy seemed to burst into him when he realised just how close he was to freedom._

 _But when he got to the front door a new wave of fear washed over him, what the hell had he done? Surely Ivan would notice…but what could he do now?_

 _He sighed and turned back to his house, it freaked him out quickly he had gotten there, he had lived so close to everyone he knew, yet he had spoken a word to them in almost a decade. Had his family ever passed the house that he had been stuck in? Had they ever thought to ask around on the day he went missing, to see if anyone had seen him?_

 _He shook those thoughts out of his head and banged on the door, hoping that his Father still lived there, but he could have moved, and maybe someone Ivan knew lived here now. That made him stop, but the damage was done, he had already knocked._

 _He almost ran again but the door was already opening and a young man stood there, it certainly wasn't his Father, he'd be almost fifty now, and the man stood before him was nowhere near that age. For a moment, he was sure they'd moved, but then it dawned on him, eight years was a long time, especially for a child, a lot could change. That was when he realised who the man standing in front of him, barely a metre away, was. It was his little brother. It was Ludwig._

 _His own confusion showed up on his brother's face at first as well, but then his blue eyes widened and his mouth fell open._

 _"Is that…Is…what the…"_

 _"Ludwig" Gilbert croaked, "Can I come in?"_

 _"Gilbert? Shit, I thought you were dead."_

 _Suddenly, the tiredness seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks, even with the journey home not being a long way, the most he had walked before in recent year had been scarcely a few metres, his body simply wasn't used to the physical exertion. His legs gave way and he started to fall; thankfully, Ludwig caught him before he hit the ground and slung one of Gilbert's flimsy arms around his neck and helped him to the sofa – it was a new sofa, and it looked pretty expensive – where he flopped down and groaned._

 _After much fuss and stuttered starts of sentences by Ludwig, both brothers were seated and eating, the elder of the two ravenously so, shovelling food into his mouth like a greedy child. Cooked food, he couldn't believe it, he had eaten hardly anything for years, living off scraps and anything he could steal from the kitchen. After he finished, Gilbert wiped his mouth on his sleeve and looked back at his younger brother, "Do you have more?" he asked._

 _Ludwig, who hadn't even touched his food yet, simply passed over his own plate in shock. Gilbert nodded in thanks and began eating again, but more slowly this time. He glanced up a few times at Ludwig as he ate, it pained him that he could not have seen Ludwig in his teenage years, he would have liked to see him grow from the timid twelve year old boy into the full-grown man that he was now. The blond hair that had once fallen in his face he now wore orderly slicked back like their Father's and he had built a lot of muscle on his body, Gilbert was sure that made him quite popular with the young women._

 _When he'd finished the second plate he had asked if he could use the bathroom, to which Ludwig had simply responded with a nod, he was still so quiet, and Gilbert had ran upstairs._

 _The bathroom mirror held his attention for the next hour or so, he had just stood there staring at it, not believing what he could see, the man in front of him was not the same person as the boy who had stood in this same spot eight years previously. He looked sick. He looked dirty. He looked ugly._

 _He started running a bath, usually he'd just shower but he was sick of standing crying under running water for hours; because when he got out he never felt any cleaner. As he stripped off, he didn't glance at his body even once, he couldn't bear to, it repulsed him. As he sunk down into the water a small sense of calm fell over him, he was home and he'd never have to face Ivan again if everything went to plan, and damn did that that thought lift his spirits. He smiled, his face straining at the rare action. He submerged his head under the water, he had thought it might make him feel cleaner, but he instead became very aware of being surrounded, the water seemed to press down on him, choking him…_

 _He had shot up and Ludwig's worried voice rang out, "Bruder! Are you all right?"_

 _Gilbert cursed to himself, he must have screamed without realising, "'s fine!" he shouted back, then hastily washed his hair before getting out of the bath._

 _Once he was out and had a towel wrapped around his waist, he had waited to hear sounds of Ludwig downstairs, to make sure that he wouldn't see him like this. After a few minutes, he was satisfied that Ludwig was busy and seemed to have no intention of coming upstairs and headed out of the bathroom. He had walked straight towards his old room, he wondered what they used it for now, probably a guest room, or a storage room._

 _The door was open, so he glanced inside; it looked completely different to how he had left it, the posters that had one plastered the walls now no longer stared down at him, his old bed was still there but with a plain quilt neatly spread on top of it, the floor was pristine , which it had never been when he occupied this space and some of the furniture had since been replaced._

 _But the items in the room that drew his attention the most was a pile of boxes at the back of the room, he strolled over to look at them. 'Gilbert' had been written on the top of each and every one of them in black marker pen, it looked like his Dad's handwriting. He flicked open the first box and was greeted with all of his old CDs and magazines, neatly piled. So they had kept all of his things, despite him telling his family that he wouldn't be coming back._

 _He glanced through a couple of other boxes, games, schoolbooks and photographs dominated most of the first ones he went through, until he got to one with his clothes in, he wasn't sure whether they would still fit him, but he felt naked and besides, it wasn't like he had grown much. Slipping on a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt from some band he used to love he trudged back into the bathroom and looked around until he found a pair of scissors, he had never cut his own hair before, but it couldn't be that hard, right?_

 _After much random snipping, Gilbert placed the scissors down and ran his hands through his once again short hair and headed downstairs, again slamming down on the couch. Ludwig walked into the room and gasped, "You cut your own hair?"_

 _Gilbert ran his hand through his hair again, "Yeah, why? Is it that bad?"_

 _Ludwig shook his head, "It's a bit messy, sure, but that's how it always has been. I would've cut it for you though."_

 _The thought of someone coming near him with scissors made Gilbert shudder. Ludwig appeared not to notice though, as he too retook his place on the couch, he looked like he was itching to ask questions. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Ludwig gave in and asked, "Where have you been? You leave with just a note telling us not to try to contact you; you leave all your stuff behind, even your bloody violin, no one sees a glimpse of you for eight fucking years and then you show up on my doorstep looking like you've been to hell and back. What on earth happened to you?"_

 _Gilbert just stared at him for a while, he wasn't used to so much talk, he had only had Ivan and his freaky sisters to talk to before now and it was only the oldest sibling he'd ever bothered trying to start a proper conversation with. Eventually, he had cleared his throat and replied, "I was with someone, but things started going wrong, I needed to move on." It was the story he decided to tell people, it was vague, but it sounded pretty believable._

 _Ludwig's eyebrows creased into a frown, "That doesn't explain why you haven't spoken to any of us for eight years!" He looked upset now and Gilbert wanted to comfort him, but the image of his brother was replaced by the image of Ivan upset…_

"Why are you being so _mean_ Gilbert?"

 _He whimpered and ran back upstairs, burying himself under the quilt. He hadn't slept well that night, he had woken a number of times, almost expecting to be back at Ivan's and by Ludwig's worried looks in the morning, he guessed he had shouted out a lot too._

 _He tried to sleep the following day instead, but to no avail, so he just lay awake. Ludwig seemed to understand and just left him alone most of the time, occasionally bringing him food. The rest of the week had passed without incident; Gilbert simply rested and listened to the sounds of a world without Ivan. Sometimes it seemed Ludwig had other people round, but they didn't see Gilbert and he was grateful for that._

 _He'd been there for six days when Ludwig really spoke to him again. He'd come in with some lunch, cautiously placing it on his bedside table. "Gilbert, can we talk?"_

 _He really wasn't in the mood for talking, but Ludwig's desperate expression hit him hard so he smiled and nodded, "Sure."_

 _"Er, look, I know that no matter how many times I ask, you're not going to tell me what happened to you. But something's not right, and I don't think moping around my house is helping at all." He gave Gilbert a weary look. Gilbert stared back incredulously, "You're kicking me out?"_

 _"No! That's not what I meant, or not exactly anyway, you remember your old friends? Antonio and Francis? They've got a spare room where they are and they said they're happy to let you have it. I can pay your rent if you need until you find a job. It's just…you don't seem to be fully here, I thought spending time with them might help you."_

 _Gilbert had objected at first, but Ludwig kept insisting that his current situation wasn't solving anything. Gilbert couldn't help thinking he had a point, and maybe some human interaction would liven him up a bit, so finally he gave in, and the next day, he actually got up, planning to leave quickly so as not to disturb his brother._

 _He went over to the boxes in his room; he would need some clothes to take after all. Lying on top of the boxes was an envelope with his name scrawled on. It was probably from Ludwig, so he must have already left. He turned the envelope over in his hand and opened it, examining the contents, a note and some money. He pulled the note out and scanned it, Ludwig had written Antonio's address down and telephone numbers of helpful people to call, Gilbert wasn't even sure who some of them were but he recognised a few of the names as other old school friends. Ludwig had also written some advice of places Gilbert could get work when he 'felt up to it'._

 _Gilbert put the note and the envelope with the money on the floor and started looking through the boxes again, he found an old black rucksack that he had sometimes used for school and shoved the envelope inside, followed by some clothes, but he would probably have to buy some new ones too, he dreaded to think how out of fashion they all were now._

 _After he was satisfied that he had a decent amount of clothes, he stood up to leave, but his CD collection caught his eye and he sat back down, maybe there was something decent in there. He flicked through it; most of the CDs were pretty similar, really loud metal music he had bought just to annoy his Dad or punk and rock bands that he and Arthur had loved to listen to. Then his hand froze._

 _A picture of a violin decorated the front cover of the case lying in front of him and gold, fancy lettering ran across the bottom. It wasn't his CD, he had borrowed it from that boy because apparently he himself lacked 'eloquent musical taste', whatever that was._

 _He scoured through the rest of the boxes to see if his CD player was still there. Thankfully, it was at the bottom of the CD box. He pulled it out and was about to plug it in when he saw the clock, it was already mid-afternoon. He hadn't realised how late he had woken, Antonio and Francis would probably be waiting for him. He jumped up, stuffed the CD player and the classical disc into the top of his pack, pulled on a bright red hoody and ran out of the house._

He turned away from the mirror now and pulled the CD player out of his bag, plugging it into the wall. He doubted his friends would care too much if he was playing music; Antonio was playing some Spanish crap downstairs anyway.

It had been so long since he had last listened to the disc that he was surprised how familiar the first track seemed to him, like he had heard it simply the week before. Realisation crept up on him and he slowly turned the case over. Track 1 was a piece composed by Tchaikovsky. Russian. He quickly clicked the 'next' button so that it faded into Pachelbel's Canon in D major. Much more like it.

The music took him back to his hours playing music in his room as a teenager, his Father had been mildly bemused but impressed that Gilbert had chosen to learn both the violin and the electric guitar. He could feel his hands itching to play, but he hadn't seen his violin amongst his things in his room at home at home, they had probably sold it.

He slumped down on his bed again, this time his intention being to sleep. For the first time in he couldn't remember how long, Ivan did not immediately invade his slumber, he dreamt instead of walking to school, he could see some of his friends in front of him, he ran to catch up with them, but no matter how fast he ran, he didn't seem to get any closer to them, he called out and the tallest boy turned around. He thought it was Mathias but as he turned around, the blond hair turned lighter and flattened down until Ivan was smiling down at him.

"You're coming back to me, да?"

He woke up abruptly in a cold sweat, shaking. Mozart's 'Adagio' blared out of the CD player, but now he simply wasn't in the mood. He yanked the plug out and lay back down, curled over in a foetal position but not daring to close his eyes again.


	2. Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, human names. 'Aldrich' is Germania, 'Julius' is Rome, 'Paolo' is Seborga and 'Sarah' is Wy. Yay for minor characters!
> 
> Also, Gilbert is 26 in this fanfiction, as is Antonio, Francis is 25, but may turn 26 later on.

The midday sun greeted Gilbert the next day, so he must have managed to fall asleep after all. He quickly showered, dressed and trudged downstairs to find Antonio chatting non-stop to a young man Gilbert hadn't met before, but he could only assume was the earlier mentioned 'Lovi'.

He looked younger than Gilbert imagined, more like a teenager than an adult, which would certainly explain Antonio's attraction to him. He had lightly tanned skin and dark hair, with a curl protruding from the middle. The young man scowled at him, "Who the hell are you?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, but you can call me 'The embodiment of all that is Awesome' if you want."

"Beilschmidt?" The man's face twisted in disgust, "There are more of you fuckers?"

Antonio grinned sheepishly, "Lovino, Ludwig's really not as bad as ya make him out to be. Gilbert's his brother anyway, so I wouldn't recommend insulting him."

Lovino looked confused as hell, his eyes flicking between Antonio and Gilbert, "If you're his brother, one: why don't you look anything like him? And two: how the hell haven't I met you before now?"

Gilbert felt his hand self-consciously going to his hair, "I take more after our mother apparently, don't really remember her very much though…" He trailed off, he didn't like talking about his mother after what happened.

He looked back to Lovino, who was still scowling at him, "You haven't answered my other question, why haven't I seen you before now? You've never been at any family things, I don't even remember seeing you at the wedding, and looking like that doesn't make you someone who's easy to forget."

Okay, now it was Gilbert's turn to be confused, was he missing something? "Er, who's wedding exactly?"

"Your Father's you idiot"

"He remarried?" that was the last thing he'd been expecting, his Father had been absolutely devastated when his wife had committed suicide, but that had been twenty years ago now. Still, he'd brought up Gilbert and Ludwig all by himself and it seemed weird to picture him being with someone else.

"Yeah, to _my_ father"

Whoa. _That_ was the last thing Gilbert been expecting, it seemed the world had gone kind of crazy since he had been gone, he hadn't even realised his father was into men.

"Wait, guys can get married now?"

Lovino gave him a look that blatantly said, 'Are you stupid or something?' before rolling his eyes, "Fine, they're in a civil partnership, same thing."

Antonio chimed in again, "No it's not! In Spain, guys like us can _actually_ get full, equal marriage."

"So why don't you piss of back to Spain, get married and leave us all in peace."

Antonio gave a mock offended look and leant over to kiss his young Italian boyfriend, he grinned, "But you'd come with me, wouldn'tcha?" Lovino blushed furiously but didn't pull away.

"Antonio, you bastard, leave me alone!"

Now that Gilbert thought about it, he hadn't seen his Father at all. He went upstairs and looked again at the telephone numbers that Ludwig had given him, his father was the penultimate name on the list, proceeding the man he assumed was his partner. He glanced at the numbers next to the word 'Dad', he didn't recognise the landline. How had he not even noticed that his dad wasn't there? Even more worrying, why hadn't Ludwig mentioned anything? Surely their dad getting married, or getting into a civil partnership (whatever that was) was pretty important news. On the other hand, he himself hadn't asked about his father, not even how he was. It seemed eight years of not having to care about anyone else but himself had left him selfish; the only thing he had talked abohttp://archiveofourown.org/works/249997/chapters/newut with his brother had been himself.

He would have to go back, not to Ivan's, but to Ludwig's, he wanted to know if anything else had happened, what the hell else he had missed in his confinement. He ran back downstairs, "Antonio! I'm off to my brother's for a bit, I'll be back later!"

As he closed the door he heard Lovino shout back, "Tell him 'Fuck you!' from me, would you?"

.

"Hey! Ludwig! Open up!" Gilbert shouted as he slammed his hand against the door, but it wasn't Ludwig who opened it and for a mad second he thought Lovino had walked here ahead of him until the man said "Veh~" and promptly glomped him.

He hadn't been prepared for the sudden contact, his whole body froze for a second before he jumped back, pushing the young man off him. His vision blurred and suddenly Ivan was standing in front of him, with that awful childlike smile, but the voice that escaped his lips was not Ivan's high-pitched tone, it was lower and when he closed and reopened his eyes he realised that Ivan wasn't there at all. Instead, Ludwig was giving him a panicked look before turning to the Lovino-look-alike, with his expression turning stern.

"Feliciano! What have I told you about touching people?"

Feliciano shook his head frantically, tears welling up in his eyes, "Veh~Veh~ I'm sorry! I just wanted to say hello! I didn't mean anything by it!"

Ludwig seemed to be trying to keep his face stern, but it was obvious from the fond look in his eyes and the tugging at the corner of his mouth that he found the Italian's outburst to be rather cute.

"It's cool" Gilbert finally piped up after regaining his composure, Ludwig shot him a sceptical look before inviting him in and introducing the Italian man, "So, this is Feliciano Vargas he's my, er…" Ludwig went slightly pink.

Feliciano grinned, "I'm his boyfriend!"

It was only now that Gilbert looked properly at Feliciano, he assumed he was Lovino's twin brother, despite his lighter hair and complexion, he also held an air of friendliness that Lovino had severely lacked.

Then it hit him, if Feliciano was indeed Lovino's twin brother, that would also make him…

"Dude" he said, staring straight at Ludwig with mild amusement, "Isn't he our step-brother?"

If possible, Ludwig's face went an even darker shade of pink, "Er, yeah."

"Is that even legal?"

"It's not like we're married or anything."

"Yeah, like dad," Gilbert shot Ludwig an offended look, "You could've mentioned"

Ludwig looked at the floor uncomfortably, Feliciano didn't seem to know where to look but judging by his vacant expression, that may have simply been because he was lost in his thoughts.

Eventually Ludwig sighed, "You seemed really stressed, you didn't seem yourself, I didn't want to bombard you with information. Besides, if you'd stayed in contact, you would've known anyway."

Gilbert closed his eyes for a moment, he really wanted to tell his brother why he couldn't call, but the words wouldn't come and even starting to recall everything hurt, he didn't want to think about any of that, not now, so he built a wall around those memories and made himself return to where he was, here and now, talking to Ludwig, in Ludwig's house, nothing else existed. "I couldn't." He said simply.

But Ludwig continued to press him, "But why? Why couldn't you have just called every once in a while?"

He could feel the wall crumbling, "Don't." he pleaded, "Just don't. I didn't come here to talk about me anyway." He finally looked his brother in the eye, that was difficult, he felt like people could see through him, what had happened to him but with that wall built up in his head he felt slightly more secure. He continued, "I want to know about you, how have you been?"

Ludwig seemed reluctant at first, it was obvious that he still expected an explanation from Gilbert and he was probably pretty angry too, Gilbert got the impression he wasn't going to answer at all, but then he sighed.

"From since you left?"

Gilbert nodded.

"It hurt at first, that you didn't really say goodbye, I think it hurt Dad too, he felt it was somehow his fault that you left, he got pretty upset. I didn't really know what to do so I just carried on trying to do well at school, life got pretty uneventful to be honest, it was so routine."

Gilbert was quite surprised, he'd never been that close to his father, he had sometimes even wondered whether his father blamed him for his mother's death. It was weird to discover he had actually been upset at Gilbert's absence, so he hadn't just been a nuisance after all.

Ludwig continued, "Then he met Julius, this was about six years ago, so I was fourteen I think, he found him really annoying at first, in fact he still does, but he started seeing a lot more of him and a couple of years ago they got into a civil partnership and dad moved in with him, he left this house to me, more bribes to keep me here I guess."

Gilbert gave him a quizzical look.

"I wanted to join the military," Ludwig explained, "Dad never really liked that idea, I don't think he wanted to fall out of contact with me too, but he kept encouraging me to finish my education and, er, Feliciano was never that keen on me joining the military either." He gave his boyfriend a fond look, Feliciano grinned enthusiastically back at him. "I planned to study engineering at university, but once again Dad wasn't keen on that, he wanted me to do something more 'academically or artistically focused', so I ended up studying classics."

Gilbert motioned his hand towards Feliciano, "Does he live with you?"

Feliciano grinned even wider, "I'm moving in soon, but my brother's not too happy with that, he doesn't like Ludwig very much."

"Yeah, I'd noticed." Gilbert responded, he turned back to Ludwig, "Almost forgot, he told me to tell you 'Fuck you' from him"

"Gee, charming as always"

"Veh~ You've met Lovino? But Ludi told me you've only just got back into contact with your family."

"Yeah, but I'm living with Antonio and Francis at the moment, so I had the misfortune of meeting him this morning. Anyway, I would have asked how you two met, but I'm guessing it was through our dad and your dad, huh?" He addressed the last part to Feliciano, he was easier to talk to than his stoic little brother.

"Si~ Si~ And we went to school together too, and we're currently attending the same university, but I'm studying Art."

They talked like this for a while, trivial conversation. But Gilbert was thankful for it, he could start filling in small parts of his brother's life he had missed, things he would have known if he had stuck around. And then Ludwig came out with something Gilbert supposed he should have expected, but by no means liked hearing anyway.

"Grandad died last year, I think it hit him pretty hard that you never visited him when he was dying, he was always really fond of you."

"Der alte Fritz…" Gilbert choked, "He's dead?" He couldn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. His grandfather had always been who he had looked up to, his father had always been too busy, too distant to ever connect with. But Fritz, as Gilbert had always called him as a boy, had been his hero.

He had loved to go to his house after school and listen to him talking, especially about the war; Fritz had been born in 1933, so he'd been a young boy during the war and he remembered it vividly, he talked of his terror when the British bomber planes flew over Berlin, of the noise and chaos. Then there were other days when he would talk more solemnly, of his time in East Germany after the war, a sad look would always play across his face when he spoke of those years and Gilbert could understand why, he may have only been four years old when they had moved to what had been West Germany, but his few, foggy memories were filled with images of poverty and desperation.

He could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes and quickly blinked them back so that his brother wouldn't see.

"Yeah, his heart started getting worse and worse, and every time I saw him, he asked me if I'd seen you recently, I kept telling him you were never coming back but he'd have none of it. He kept insisting you'd come visit him. You never did though, did you?"

Gilbert carried on blinking back tears and shook his head, he tried to choke out his usual "I couldn't" response but even that was too much. A burst of self-loathing broke out over Gilbert, how could he have sat feeling sorry himself at Ivan's, when his dear old Fritz was dying? Surely he could have escaped sooner, he had had a million chances, but he had always been too fucking scared. And this was the cost, this was his punishment. But the punishment had not been dealt to him, but to his poor old grandfather. That wasn't fair!

"I wanna go visit him, his grave, I know it's not the same and believe me bruder, if I'd known how ill he was, I would've gone to see him, but I really need to talk to him."

Ludwig nodded, "But first you should talk to dad, he really misses you."

Gilbert sighed, "Fine, can you call him over here?"

"Right now?"

"Sure, why not?"

"It's just, you still seem pretty down, you sure you don't want to wait a couple more days or something?"

"Ludwig, it was you who wanted me to speak to him in the first place," Gilbert said, exasperated.

"Fine, fine, I'll call!" He leaned over and picked up the phone, he had just started dialling when Gilbert interrupted, "Wait"

Ludwig looked pissed, "You changed your mind?"

"No, it's just, can I call him?"

Ludwig passed over the receiver, his face softening. Gilbert could feel his own hands shaking, this would be the first time he'd talked to his own father in almost a decade, he wasn't even sure if his father wanted to talk to him. Nevertheless, he pulled the piece of paper with his dad's number on it out of the pocket he now carried it in and dialled the number into Ludwig's phone.

.

Aldrich checked on Paolo again and sighed, "You're still on Facebook? Shouldn't you be doing homework?"

Paolo's face was that of a deer trapped in headlights as he quickly clicked a tab on his computer so that Wikipedia showed up instead. "I am doing homework too!"

Aldrich highly doubted that, the Wikipedia page was probably just a cover up, and he couldn't see any word documents open, "You shouldn't fall behind on your school work, you're clever, don't let it go to waste."

Paolo frowned, "I'm not clever."

"Who told you that?"

"Sarah mostly, and she's really clever, and really artistic too, it's not fair, the teacher always compliments her artwork, apparently I'm 'not modern' enough"

Aldrich raised his eyebrows, it certainly sounded like someone had a crush, "Just because some girl and an art teacher don't like your drawings, that doesn't make you stupid. Besides, I can try to help you with your homework if you want."

Since he had felt like such an awful father to Ludwig and Gilbert when they were younger, Aldrich had tried to be more involved with Julius' youngest son, Paolo. At times, the eccentric Italian boy was harder to put up with than his loud father but there were other times he loved to spend time with him.

Paolo grinned, "Could you? I don't understand a word of it."

Just then, the phone rang, Aldrich stood up to get it and Paolo's grin faded to a look of disappointment, it was exactly the same expression Ludwig and Gilbert had given him when he was too busy to spend time with them.

"I'm sorry, but it might be important, I promise I'll help you afterwards, okay?"

Paolo nodded, but the look on his face didn't fade and Aldrich felt a pang of guilt as he went to pick up the phone. Damn Julius was out of the house so he had to get it, but he felt awful promising something to his adoptive son and breaking it in mere seconds.

He picked up the receiver, "Hello, Aldrich Beilschmidt speaking, how can I help you?"

Suddenly the door burst open and Julius barged in with bags of shopping, "I'm ho-ome!" Aldrich cursed under his breath before the reply from the phone came,

"Hey Dad, it's Gilbert."

Aldrich's hand, which he'd been lifting to wave at his husband, froze in midair and his throat went dry, "Is this some sort of sick joke?"

"No Dad, I just wanted to call."

"Gilbert left eight years ago, leaving me no means to contact him at all, why would he suddenly call?"

"Dad, listen, I am Gilbert and I wanted to call before, I really did, I just couldn't."

"Please stop this, my son might be dead for all I know, I don't appreciate this kind of humour."

He sounded frustrated now, "Dad, _mein gott_ , it's me, your son! This isn't a friggin' joke. I'm at Ludwig's right now, you can come over, see for yourself."

Aldrich wasn't sure what to believe, the man on the phone certainly sounded like Gilbert, but he was worried that if he clung onto that shred of hope that Gilbert was alive and wanted to see him again and it turned out not to be true, that he would simply shut down again, as he had when when his wife had spiralled into depression, eventually killing herself and when Gilbert had first left. He was surprised he had managed to cope at all actually. But then again, that was mostly because of Julius.

 _Aldrich stared down into the half-a-glass of beer in front of him, absorbing the sounds around him; mostly it was small groups of friends, coming down to the pub together after a long week at work, chatting about the most trivial of things, who had died on a soap that week, the latest news on their gorgeous boss's divorce, a hilarious slip-up someone had made in the office earlier. Then a closer voice came to his ears, "Hello-o? Earth to moody blond guy!"_

 _Aldrich assumed the man was talking to him and looked up, "What do you want?"_

 _The man grinned, he was quite handsome, he had tanned skin and unruly dark brown hair and judging by his accent and the fact that he wasn't drinking beer, he was probably European. "Nothing much, I just came to say hello."_

 _"Well, hello. Happy?" Aldrich turned back to his drink but the man didn't leave and he was now being approached by the irritable young British man who helped his mother run the pub, "Is there anything I can get you?"_

 _Aldrich was pretty sure the boy was too young to be serving people alcohol, but he didn't question it and the European man didn't seem to care, "Yes please! Could I have some wine?"_

 _"Certainly, but we don't sell any French wine, do you mind?"_

 _"Not at all, I already knew that anyway, I come here quite a lot, your Mother always serves me though."_

 _"Ah I see." He said, pouring a glass of wine, "She probably fancies you."_

 _The man grinned, "Who doesn't?"_

 _"Me, I assure you." The British boy replied, handing the glass over to Julius and taking his money, he pointed at Aldrich, "And he's not looking too interested either." He added, before serving a different customer._

 _Much to Aldrich's dismay, Mr. Annoying European was still gracing him with his presence._

 _"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?"_

 _"I'm sorry?"_

 _"Come on, I see you here all the time, you never have anyone with you and you just sit there, drinking your sorrows away. Something's up, and I'm curious."_

 _Aldrich stared at him with disbelief, "Are you a stalker?"_

 _That man laughed at that, a big hearty laugh, it was something he never really heard anymore, he himself never found himself laughing, Ludwig wasn't exactly a cheery person and he didn't see much of any of his friends anymore. The man's laugh was comforting, even if he was a bit weird._

 _"Not a stalker exactly, I just happened to be in the same place you were." He took a sip of wine, "But unlike you, I'm rarely alone, so I've never had a chance to talk to you before."_

 _"Today is obviously my lucky day." He replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, couldn't this guy just leave him alone already?_

 _"Indeed it is! So, what's wrong? I'm sick of watching you here, week in, week out. There are a million other things you could be doing."_

 _"Like what exactly?" In spite of himself, Aldrich found himself talking to the man after all. Perhaps a conversation other than talks with patients at work and the occasional chat the pub owner's son Arthur about whether he'd heard any news about Gilbert would be good._

 _"Have anyone special?" The man asked._

 _"I had a wife, but she killed herself many years ago now." Why was he even telling him all of this?_

 _The man's expression became more solemn, "I'm sorry." He swirled the wine in his glass around and downed the last bit, "You've not seen anyone since?"_

 _"No, I've been too busy."_

 _"Busy? With what?"_

 _"My work, and bringing up my children."_

 _"You have children?" The man grinned, "They're a pain in the butt, right? How old are they?"_

 _Aldrich went quiet, he didn't like talking about Gilbert too much, he spent far too much time thinking about him. He hated to think how many hours he had wasted sitting around by the phone or the front window with the slim hope that Gilbert would change his mind about wherever he was, that he would come home._

 _"Ludwig's fourteen, and Gilbert's twenty, but he broke contact, I don't see him anymore."_

 _"He's fourteen and you just leave him at home to come out drinking?"_

 _Aldrich glared at him, "Who are you to tell me how to bring up my son?"_

 _The man held up his hands defensively, "I didn't mean anything by it, it's just, don't you think spending more time with him might cheer you up a bit?"_

 _Now that the man had brought it up, Aldrich couldn't think of the last time he had gone out of his way to spend time with Ludwig. "Shit." He felt his face falling forward, "I'm a really bad father."_

 _The European man now looked a little worried, "I'm sure you're not that bad, if it's any consolation, my kids are at home alone too right now, but my eldest is sixteen, so he's supposed to be responsible or something."_

 _"No, it's not just that, I'm just a bad father in general, why else do you think Gilbert wants nothing to do with me?"_

 _"I wouldn't know, I don't know him, but what I do know is that you're a sad, lonely bastard who needs a friend. I've got to be getting back home now, goodness knows what Lovino's doing to his brothers to keep them in order, but I'll see you tomorrow alright?" He handed a phone number, "And call me if you need me."_

 _"I don't even know you're name!"_

 _He grinned, "I'm Julius Vargas, and you?"  
"Aldrich Beilschmidt."_

 _"Well, nice to meet you Aldrich. By tomorrow, I expect a smile on that grumpy old face of yours."_

 _As Julius walked out of the pub, Aldrich turned back to his beer, or what had been his beer, he must have finished it whilst the man was talking. He almost ordered another one but he thought of Ludwig alone at home, he was independent enough, he was probably getting on with some homework or watching a history program on TV, but still, he was alone and Aldrich couldn't help feeling guilty. He stood up to leave and piece of paper fluttered to the floor, he leaned down to pick it up, it was Julius's number. He pocketed it and as he walked out of the Kirkland's pub, he felt a small smile creep onto his face._

"I'll come over in about an hour." He finally said, "But this had better not be a prank."

"It's not, see you then."

"Mm. And…nothing, see you." He hung up but stayed staring at the receiver, he had an hour to decide what to say if it really was Gilbert, it wasn't like it took very long to get to his old house, so right now he just needed to sit down. He walked through to the living room in a daze and fell into an armchair, Julius sauntered into the room from the kitchen and kissed him on the cheek.

"Who was on the phone?" He asked, a curious twinkle in his eye. Aldrich looked at him, still not entirely sure if he believed it himself.

"Gilbert."


	3. Ivan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Marianne' is Belgium, 'Lars' is Nethrelands, 'Emmanuel' is Cameroon, 'Steve' is Australia, and 'Hugh' is New Zealand.

When Aldrich got to the house, much to his chagrin, it was Ludwig who opened the door. Not that he didn't want to see Ludwig, but Gilbert opening the door would have confirmed straight away that this wasn't a prank from some heartless imbecile.

He looked at his youngest son, keeping his face impassive as usual, but he couldn't help hearing desperation escape in his voice, "Is Gilbert here?"

"Yeah, he's in the lounge, but don't ask him too many questions or anything, he doesn't seem well."

"Not well?" Aldrich asked, worried, "How do you mean?"

"I dunno, he just doesn't seem all there, but he won't tell me a thing."

Gott, what had happened to him? He hope Gilbert hadn't been living on the streets or caught a terminal illness or anything, maybe Ludwig was overreacting, maybe Gilbert was fine.

He walked through to the living room, Feliciano was sprawled across the couch, but it was the other young man in the room who occupied Aldrich's attention. Gilbert stood slightly hunched, leaning against the wall, he had lost a lot of weight and had huge dark circles under his eyes. His skin was deathly pale and there was no way he could describe the state his son was in as 'fine', he could see what Ludwig meant.

Gilbert looked up and as his red eyes found his father's blue, a million things hung unsaid in the air, eight years apart and even before that, Gilbert had spent so much time out of the house that at times Aldrich felt he didn't really know his son at all. There were so many things he wanted to say, wanted to ask; where he had been, how he was, why he had left, he wanted an explanation, he felt he deserved one. But then one word escaped Gilbert's lips and all thoughts of quizzing his son left his mind.

"Vati." He didn't sound like a grown man at all, but like a boy and Aldrich felt a sudden urge to hold him, to protect him. But when he reached out to hug his son, Gilbert cried out and his knees gave way, he fell to the floor, shaking.

Aldrich stared in horror, uncertain of what to do. Gilbert seemed to be mumbling something, he listened closer and caught 'please don't', he blocked it out, he didn't even want to know, not when his son sounded so despearate, in case his fears of what had happned to Gilbert came true. Ludwig ran over and knelt down so he was level with his brother, he shook his shoulder.

"Gilbert!"

He cried out again but then he looked at Ludwig and his body relaxed and his breathing began to slow down from the ragged mumbling it had been before.

"What the hell was that about?" Aldrich asked, stunned.

Gilbert just looked at him, then pulled himself up off the floor, so he was leaning once more against the wall, "I just…" He started, "…It's nothing, can we pretend that didn't happen?" Aldrich continued to stare at him.

Gilbert scowled, "Jeez, it's fine, okay? You're all looking t me like I'm a mental patient or something."

Aldrich tried to relax his face, but he felt worried sick, "Gilbert, what happened to you?"

"Nothing, okay? Nothing."

Ludwig interrupted, "But, bruder, that's the second time that's happened."

Aldrich was even more horrified, "What?"

"When Feliciano tried to hug him earlier."

"He reacted the same?"

"He is still in the room!" Gilbert snarled.

"I'm sorry Gilbert, but seriously, what the hell was that about?"

Gilbert hit his head back against the wall, it was clear he was getting frustrated, "For the last time: nothing! Just leave it, how are you?"

Aldrich couldn't believe Gilbert had changed the subject like that, wasn't he going to tell him anything?

"I'm alright…I'm glad you're safe, but you don't look well. Has something happened?"

Gilbert's face relaxed slightly, he looked almost relieved, but it quickly changed back to an irate look, "Nothing out of the ordinary." He said, seemingly after some thought.

By now, Aldrich was starting to get annoyed too, Gilbert's vague answers, the weird behaviour when he was touched and his constant demanding that nothing was wrong. Aldrich was starting to feel like the only one not in on a joke, but then again, Ludwig also seemed utterly clueless, "But where have you been?"

"I said in my letter," Gilbert indicated to mid air as if the letter were right in front of him, "I went to live with someone."

"Who?"

Gilbert frowned, "Just some guy…I didn't think you'd approve, I mean, you grew up in East Germany, and you're pretty conservative, I didn't realise that, er, you were into guys as well. But that's why I didn't tell you."

Aldrich didn't believe a word of it, "You can't be serious."

"I am, anyway, I have a bunch of stuff I need to sort out, so I'm going back to Antonio's, but I'd love to catch up with you and whatever-his-name-is sometime." And he promptly stormed out the house, Aldrich wondered if he had even meant the last bit. He looked at Ludwig, who just shrugged, "I did warn you."

Feliciano finally spoke up, "Veh~ I thought he seemed alright."

Ludwig turned to him, "Yeah., but you didn't know him beforehand, he's like a completely different person, and he looks ill…In fact, I'm going to go give him a lift, I'm worried he might faint or something otherwise." He looked at his father, "I'm sorry about that, maybe he'll open up a bit more once he's settled, he's only been back for about a week."

Aldrich nodded, "I'd better be getting home then, it was good seeing you again, however briefly." He inclined his head towards Feliciano and left the house, Ludwig following behind, presumably to pick up Gilbert.

.

Ludwig started the engine in his car, he doubted Gilbert had walked very far so he slowly trundled down the road. It was mere seconds before he saw Gilbert just turning the corner; he sped up a little to catch up with him. Gilbert turned his head slightly; he must have heard the car. He seemed to spot the car but instead of stopping as Ludwig had expected him to, he sped up his pace and out his head down.

Ludwig sped up a little more and pulled up next to his big brother, he leaned out the car, "Oi! Gilbert!"

Gilbert turned around, he looked terrified for a second but then his mouth formed a small 'o' and he walked over. "I'll give you a lift." Ludwig said.

Gilbert pulled himself into the passenger seat, "Thanks."

"Um, seatbelt?" Ludwig said, indicating at the seatbelt that Gilbert hadn't put on.

"Meh, it's not far, I'm sure I'll live."

Ludwig rolled his eyes but didn't try to argue. He pulled back onto the road and began to drive to Antonio's, he glanced at Gilbert, who had a puzzled look on his face, "What's that?" He asked.

Ludwig looked where he was pointing, "Er, it's a satnav."

Gilbert poked it, "Yeah, but what does it do?"

Okay, he was joking right? But the fascinated look on Gilbert's face as he pressed goodness knows what on the little machine told him otherwise.

"You use it to find locations and stuff, like a map."

"Awesome! I'm gonna type in Antonio's address."

"Gilbert, I know where he lives."

"Yeah, but still." He typed in the postcode.

"In 100 metres, turn right."

"Oh my God it talks." Gilbert looked awestruck, "This is officially the most awesome thing ever…Apart from me, and Gilbird."

Suddenly, it started bleeping, "At the nearest opportunity, please turn around." Ludwig sighed, "Only thing is, sometimes it has weird routes in mind, it obviously has a different way to Antonio's to the one I know." He turned it off.

Gilbert shrugged, "I was getting bored of it anyway." Ludwig doubted that.

But that was weird, satnavs weren't exactly a new invention, he was surprised Gilbert had never encountered one before. "Gil, have you been living in a cave or something?"

"Yeah, in Antarctica, with wild bears. No Ludwig, I have not been living in a cave."

Ludwig went quiet briefly, then he turned to his brother again, "Do you even know who the Prime Minister is?"

"Probably some arsehole. We're here now anyway, so you can stop quizzing me." He opened the door, "Thanks for the lift." He said as he ran up to his current residence and disappeared behind the door.

Ludwig set off back home, Gilbert was certainly more normal than he had been for the past week, but he still wasn't convinced, something was up and somehow he'd find out what that was.

.

Gilbert opened the door and strode across the hall to glance into the living room, Lovino was still there, leaning against Antonio and writing something on a laptop whilst conversing with his boyfriend; Gilbert assumed Antonio was helping him with some university work. He looked again at the laptop, "You got any other computers lying around?"

Antonio jumped slightly and looked up, "Oh, hey Gilbert! I didn't expect ya back so soon."

Lovino also looked up, but he seemed unperturbed by Gilbert's presence, "How's Ludwig?" He asked a malicious glint in his eye.

"Fine."

"Damn, why can't he get a terminal illness and die already?"

"Lovi, you really shouldn't make jokes like that."

"And what if I'm not joking? I want that bastard away from my brother."

"Yeah, well I doubt your brother would be too happy if he knew the kind of things I did to you."

Lovino went as red as the tomatoes on the coffee table, "Antonio!"

Gilbert cleared his throat loudly, "The computer." He reminded Antonio.

"Oh, right, sorry 'bout that. I think my laptop's on my bed upstairs, I know it's plugged in but it's probably fully charged by now so feel free to pull it out."

Gilbert was about to run up to get it but he paused, "Is Francis ever actually around?"

Antonio laughed, "You'll see more of him during the week, he works on Sundays, for some posh-ass restaurant in town, it's pretty nice there, I've taken Lovino a couple of times."

"Awesome, I'll remember to demand a free meal from him then." He grinned before searching for Antonio's room. It wasn't hard to find seeing as the house wasn't all that big. He stepped cautiously into the room. As expected, it was a bit of a mess; a empty coffee cup and plate lay strewn on his bedside table, his bed hadn't been made and stacks of paper and what looked like school books littered the floor. But as promised, the laptop was sitting on the pillow of his bed, Gilbert unplugged it and was just about to leave when he noticed a board of photos stuck above Antonio's bed, many of them were of him and Lovino, they'd seemingly been together quite a while. But there were other pictures too; some of them were him with a young man and woman that Gilbert vaguely remembered were Antonio's cousins, but he was sure he'd seen the two of them kissing once, so he wasn't so sure. Other pictures were of him and Francis and a few of them also contained Mathias and Arthur

Right at the bottom, though, was the picture that really caught Gilbert's attention. It showed a group of scruffy looking boys in football kits, looking dead pleased with themselves and with their arms round each other. Gilbert smiled; it was the five of them. Mathias was in the middle of the picture and his chuffed grin was the widest, he had been a year older than Francis, Antonio and Gilbert, or the 'Bad Friends Trio' as they had been nicknamed at school, but nonetheless they had got on really well and during their later years at secondary school had gone out and got drunk together far more than they should have.

To his immediate left was Arthur. Once again, Arthur had not been in the same school year as the Bad Friends Trio, but two years younger. They had been apprehensive of him at first; the Kirkland family had quite a reputation at their school. The oldest one, James –or Jamie if you dared- was infamous in the school for beating up younger kids and generally being a nasty piece of work. Then there were the twins, Shannon and Patrick, they argued non-stop but then never talked to anyone else except to occasionally join their older brother in bullying young students. Rhys was the final Kirkland to join the school before Arthur, he was in Gilbert's year and thankfully wasn't as unpleasant as his siblings…he was just plain weird, Antonio had once asked him whether he was into men or women, his reply had been enough to keep Antonio from talking to him again, "Sheep. I like sheep."

So when they had heard that another Kirkland sibling was joining the school when they were going into their third year, they hadn't expected to like him at all. But he was _awesome_. Sarcastic, punky and, sure, pretty unpleasant but not to the same degree as his older siblings. Even better, he didn't take Francis's shit, Gilbert remembered one time when Francis had started flirting with Arthur, the young British boy had promptly kicked him in the balls and stared triumphantly at the blubbering mess on the floor he became.

On the far left of the picture was Francis, golden hair tied up and his usually perfect legs caked in a layer of mud, but he didn't seem to care, his ever handsome face smiling radiantly at the camera.

To Mathias's immediate right, and by the looks of things being slightly crushed by the older boy's strong grip, was Antonio, his hair also tied up as he had worn it long for a few years as a teenager, apparently it was 'cool' but Gilbert had always thought he looked like an idiot with it like that. Like Francis, he was caked in mud, particularly on his right side where he had skidded to hit the ball earlier on and his chest was decorated with a muddy footprint where he had been kicked by his cousin, Lars.

Gilbert himself was right on the end, his grin only fractionally less wide than Mathias', he also had his arm round Antonio and the other was doing a peace sign at the cameraman, he looked happier than he'd seen himself in years and Gilbird, who was pretty new at the time, was nestled in his white hair.

The picture had been taken on the day that they had won that season's 5-a-side football league that their school ran. There were two leagues, one for years 7 to 10 and another year 11 and the Sixth form. The teachers encouraged mixed aged teams, otherwise the matches would have consisted of a bunch of burly year 10s flattening frightened new year 7s.

Gilbert had immediately wanted Antonio to be on his team, it was how they had become friends in the first place, because damn could that boy play football.

 _Antonio cheered and high-fived Gilbert as he ran up the pitch, they had equalised, but there were only five minutes left to go, and they wanted victory._

They had Francis on the team just because they were friends; he wasn't a particularly spectacular player though, so he was always shoved in goal. Thankfully, after a bit of training he turned out not to be too bad at it.

 _The opposing goalie, a solemn boy from Cameroon in the year below them, threw the ball to Antonio's big cousin. Bad move. He'd kept it within his own half, Gilbert grinned and ran towards the tall Dutch boy. Marianne, Antonio's younger cousin, was hot on his tail and he was pretty sure she could outrun him. He cursed and looked around for any sign of Arthur or Antonio._

Mathias was useful because of his size. He was so damn huge that as a defender, the younger kids ran up the field, full of confidence, then banged into him before they could reach the goal and almost wet themselves. That, and he was pretty nifty with a football too, something he would brag about to his Norwegian peer who he spent his whole secondary school life pursuing, but Gilbert wasn't sure if they ever actually dated.

Arthur was hanging back with Mathias in case the ball went up that way, but he could see no sign of Antonio. Then, out of no where, Antonio sped past him and skidded into Lars. Gilbert quickly cut across Marianne and sprinted left to receive the ball once Antonio's foot had expertly collided with it.

Arthur was keen to be on their team, they had laughed at first, a little year 7? With the Bad Friends Trio, the coolest kids in school? He had to be joking, but they let him show then what he could do and when he out-skilled Gilbert – or so Francis and Antonio had claimed, Gilbert thought he was far better – they let him on the team.

 _Arthur was running up the pitch now too, in case Gilbert didn't get to the ball in time. But Gilbert could feel energy pulsing through him; he had to get this ball! And, yes! He'd got it! He teased it into the inside of his boot and slammed it once again into the net. The other team's goalie was good, it was the final after all, but he'd been put off by letting in Antonio's goal just minutes before and he missed the ball by miles._

And so they had got their unbeatable team, 'Team Awesome' as Mathias and Gilbert had so fondly dubbed it, they only played all together that one year though, because the next year Mathias went into the higher age category and by the time Arthur was in that category to play with them, Mathias was out of school.

 _Gilbert was ecstatic, there was no way the other team could win now and it would take them a miracle to equalise. Emmanuel, the goal keeper, looked slightly disgruntled, but determined, as he threw the out wider this time, to Steve, the opposition's speedy striker. But speed was nothing against Mathias, who tackled him immediately and passed the ball to Arthur, there was no way he could score now, but he ran towards Emmanuel once more anyway, even if just to keep the ball out of their half._

 _Then the whistle blew, as the shrill noise reached Gilbert's ears he felt Antonio glomp him and Francis was crying tears of joy, Arthur was telling him to stop being such a sissy, but he looked on the verge of tears too. Mathias promptly ran to the crowd shouting, "We won! We actually fucking won!" and grabbed his Norwegian friend – Lukas, was it? - pulling him into a tight hug, "You have to go out with me now."_

 _Lukas pushed him away, "No way, that wasn't the deal." But Gilbert could see a small smile playing on his lips._

 _Suddenly, Gilbert felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the cold December weather. Antonio had let go of him now to go hug Francis so he turned around, behind the cheering kids in uniform and even a few teachers wrapped in coats was a tall man, he had pale hair and a large scarf around his neck, his purple eyes seemed to bore right into Gilbert. The elation he had felt just moments before vanished and he suddenly felt quite exposed._

 _The man waved, Gilbert checked behind him but no one else had seemed to notice the stranger, he was standing slightly in shadow and there was a thin fog so that was hardly surprising. But that meant that the man was waving at Gilbert and he was pretty sure he didn't know him. He shuddered and turned back around; Arthur was grinning and running towards him, "Come on! We're getting a picture!"_

 _The moment passed and the feeling of elation returned, Gilbert ran to join his friends. Mathias was shouting, "I'm so proud of you guys! So proud!" There was a buzz in the air that no one could ignore, even the other team seemed to have accepted thei defeat well; Marianne was happily congratulating Antonio, Lars was jokily claiming that he went easy on him and the brothers from down under, Steve and Hugh, were comforting a slightly down Emmanuel, who probably felt responsible for their loss. For now, all thoughts of the man with the scarf were erased from Gilbert's mind._

 _The match had been held in the last two periods of school, most of the matches had been at lunch times but the teachers knew how much people enjoyed the final, so they made it a bit more special. That meant that people were heading home now, Mathias grinned, "If we didn't have an eleven year old on our team, I'd take you all out for drinks right now."_

 _Gilbert laughed, "Believe me, I was drinking long before I was eleven, but I've got to get home, my brother will want to know whether we won or not." He strolled back into the school to pick up his school bag, people patting him on the back and congratulating him as he went. Eventually, he got to his form room, slung his bag on his back and headed back outside._

 _The front field was starting to clear now as everyone headed home, Gilbert always walked home alone unless he was going to Francis' or Antonio's place. It was near enough anyway and his dad had to pick up Ludwig. Usually he didn't mind so much, but today he felt slightly on edge and he couldn't work out why until he noticed the man from earlier, now standing near the entrance to the school._

 _Gilbert planned to blend into the crowd to get out, but he had wasted time getting his bag, so there wasn't much of a crowd to speak of. He bit his lip and headed towards the entrance, he could feel the man staring at him. Once he got nearer he looked up slightly, the man smiled and indicated for Gilbert to come towards him. Gilbert looked around but nobody took any notice, to them it probably looked like a relative coming to pick him up after watching him play._

 _He carried on walking but he couldn't help keep glancing at the man, whose expression darkened slightly as he indicated for Gilbert to go to him again._

 _Gilbert was frightened, who the hell was this guy? But maybe his dad had just sent someone to pick him up because he thought that Gilbert would be tired after the match, it was unlikely, but it was possible. That thought drove him to walk over to the man. He smiled. Gilbert shuddered._

 _"I was watching you play football earlier." He said as Gilbert drew near, "You're very good."_

 _Gilbert wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded._

 _"Are you going to tell me your name?"_

 _"Gilbert."_

 _The man reached out one of his hands and stroked it down Gilbert's face. It was ice cold. "You're very pretty Gilbert."_

 _By now, Gilbert knew that his dad had certainly not sent this man, and knew he should run as fast and as far away as possible, but he was frozen to the spot. The man's expression darkened and his voice lowered slightly from the shrill, child-like tone it had been at first, "It is polite, to ask someone's name when they have asked for yours, дa?"_

 _"Wh-What's your name?"_

 _The man grinned again, "Good boy! I'm Ivan." His hand was now lightly stroking Gilbert's hair, "You have such white hair, like snow." He traced his hand down Gilbert's face again until it was underneath his chin, he lifted Gilbert's face – fuck, he was strong – so that he forced Gilbert's eyes to meet his, "And such red eyes," He added smiling, "Like blood."_

 _Thankfully, the man's phone rang and he let go of Gilbert's face. Gilbert swayed on the spot slightly, he could feel himself shaking, he wanted to run, but he was scared that the man might catch up with him so he simply stayed where he was as the man, Ivan, answered his phone._

 _"Дa?"_

 _He went silent for a little, obviously whoever was on the other side of the line had a lot to say. Ivan's expression changed to a childish pout, "Awww, really? But I'm having fun!"_

 _"…"_

 _He sighed, "Fine, I'll be there." He put the phone back inside his coat and looked back at Gilbert, "I have to go, maybe another time, дa?"_

 _Gilbert dreaded to think what meant by that as he watched the man leave. He still didn't move at first but then a teacher saw him and smiled, "Great playing today Gilbert!"_

 _Gilbert smiled half-heartedly back, "Thanks, sir!" And he headed off home, he checked to see if Roderich was around when he passed the courtyard they often met, but he had a piano exam today, so he doubted it and nothing but a couple of pigeons occupied their usual place._

 _So he trudged home alone, checking to see if the man was behind him every few seconds. Eventually, he broke into a run until he got home where he tried to forget the meeting with Ivan and instead focus on the day's football match, which now felt like a lifetime ago, to keep his little brother happy._

Gilbert stared at the picture, so that had been the day that he had first met Ivan the day all of this had started. The boys' smiles no longer seemed cheerful and proud but malicious, taunting. He ripped the picture off the board and threw it face down on the bed.

He ran back to his own room, jumped onto his bed and opened the laptop, hoping it may be able to distract him. Antonio had obviously forgotten to turn his laptop off the last time he had used it as the screen came to life immediately and and a website called 'Facebook' flashed up.

'Antonio Fernandez Carriedo' was written in the top left corner, next to a small picture of him and Lovino. In the middle of the page, various names were written with sentences after them, presumably written by the people whose names they were written under.

Gilbert pulled himself off the bed and ran downstairs with the laptop; he headed into the lounge where Lovino and Antonio were still working.

"Antonio! Is this important or can I get rid of it?" Gilbert said as he thrust the laptop in his friend's face.

Antonio groaned, "You haven't fraped me have you?"

Gilbert was mortified, "I haven't WHAT you?"

"Fraped me"

When the horrified look that Gilbert knew was evident on his face didn't fade, Antonio explained, "Fraping, it's when you hack someone's Facebook and post a really awful status or change their relationship status or something."

Gilbert nodded, relaxing slightly, "Well, no, I haven't fraped you then. I don't even know what this Facebook thingy is."

Antonio looked horrified now and even Lovino looked up from his work.

"You don't know what Facebook is? Man, that's really sad." The young Italian said.

Antonio shook his head in disbelief, "That explains why I couldn't find you then, I tried searching for you, I even tried 'Awesome Beilschmidt', it seemed like the kind of thing you'd call yourself…But, dude, Facebook! It's only the biggest social networking site there is."

"Right, like myspace?"

"Kinda, but not so music-based."

Gilbert was beginning to feel self-conscious, Antonio was still staring at him.

"What?"

"I just can't believe you don't know what Facebook is. You're freaking me out a bit, Gil, it's like you've been dead for eight years and now you're suddenly back alive."

"Yeah, 'cause that makes perfect sense."

"Whatever, you should totally make an account, it's a good way to connect with people ya used to know."

"Awesome, I'll get round to it, I wanna do some other stuff right now though."

Antonio handed the laptop back to him, "Feel free to navigate away from the page, or logout or whatever, I can get back to it easily."

Gilbert accepted the laptop from Antonio and headed back upstairs, he nudged open the door of his room, strode over to the edge of his bed, sat down and turned his attention back to the laptop.

He found his way onto Google and searched for 'British Prime Minister', apparently it was some guy called David Cameron, from the conservative party. _Probably a rich-ass snob then_ thought Gilbert, moving the cursor back to the search bar to type 'Can you marry your step-brother?'

Some people had evidently wondered this before as there was a link to someone asking the same question on some question and answer website. He clicked it and read the highest-rated answer:

'Yes. But it might be awkward.' Gilbert grinned; he would have to tell Ludwig that.

He returned to Google but he couldn't think what the hell he could actually search for, he had probably missed a lot over the last eight years but he didn't really know where to start. He sighed and closed the laptop; he would make a Facebook account another time, right now he wasn't in the mood to be bombarded with more questions about where he had been. But he did miss some of his old friends, meeting up with Mathias and Arthur again would be awesome, so he would have to make an account sometime soon.

He placed the laptop on the floor by his bed and lay down, getting some more sleep probably wouldn't hurt. The exhaustion he hadn't realised he was feeling washed over him as he fell asleep immediately.

 _He was sitting cross-legged in a chair, a heavy book open in his lap. Ivan allowed him some freedoms and Gilbert had quickly learnt that reading was a good way to distract himself and stay out of Ivan's way. Most of the books in the house were written in Russian and the few that were in English were pretty much communist propaganda, but at least it was something to do._

 _He hadn't realised at first that Ivan had walked into the room but then the door closed loudly and Gilbert slammed the book shut in surprise. He looked up, Ivan was smiling his usual creepy smile, Gilbert could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and a feeling of dread engulfed him as Ivan's smile morphed into a frown._

 _He strode over to Gilbert and leant down so their eyes were level. Gilbert could feel his breathing speeding up and tried to calm it so that he wouldn't appear frightened. Ivan reached out a hand and poked Gilbert's forehead, "What's that?"_

 _Gilbert, confused, slowly raised his own hand to feel the point that Ivan's hand had touched. "Um, I think it's just a spot or something."_

 _Ivan's frown deepened, "Well, it ruins your face."_

 _Gilbert rolled his eyes, momentarily forgetting where he was, "I'm a teenager, it's hardly uncommon for – argh!" Ivan had struck him across the face, hard, and he spoke with his dark, low tone._

 _"Don't answer back, Gilbert."_

 _Gilbert turned his head back so that he was facing Ivan, whose expression seemed to lighten slightly as he returned to his child-like voice, he looked at the mark he had made on Gilbert's cheek, "And now it's even more ruined!"_

 _Gilbert bit his lip, he wanted to scream at Ivan, point out that he was the one who had done it, but he knew he would just end up in trouble, and it would be far worse than just being struck across the face. He stayed quiet, therefore, and simply held eye contact. Ivan opened he mouth to speak again._

"Bonjour!"

 _Huh? That wasn't right, that wasn't even his voice, that was-_

The front door slamming shut woke Gilbert up properly and he heard Antonio welcoming Francis home. So it had been a dream, he wasn't back at Ivan's, he breathed a sigh of relief.


	4. Trust

Now that he was awake, he didn't suppose he would get back to sleep easily so he got out of bed. His body was coated in a thin layer of sweat, he considered having a shower, but sussed that Francis and Antonio probably wouldn't care much.

He trudged downstairs, but stopped halfway; Francis and Antonio were talking in hushed tones, Francis looked worried as Antonio nodded at something he was saying. Gilbert cleared his throat; Francis shut up immediately and glanced guiltily up at him.

"You guys have a habit of talking about me behind my back, huh?" Gilbert remarked.

Antonio looked at Francis, obviously expecting him to say something. Francis threw Antonio a look before turning back to Gilbert, "Fine, I will say it to your face, but first, I need a glass of wine and a comfortable sofa!"

Antonio headed into the kitchen, probably to get Francis his wine. Gilbert headed into the lounge with Francis as Antonio called out, "You want anything to drink, Gilbert?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind some beer!" He called back, falling into an armchair, Francis sat down on the sofa and swung his left leg over his right dramatically.

Antonio walked into the room, a can of Budweiser in one hand, two empty glasses in the other and a bottle of wine balanced under his arm.

He threw the can over to Gilbert before placing the glasses on the coffee table and filling them with wine. He picked up one of the glasses and relaxed on the sofa next to Francis.

"So what's the deal?" Gilbert asked, opening the can of beer, "What were you whispering about?"

"We were discussing where you've been."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "As usual." He took a swig of beer. Oh my god. He had forgotten how good beer tasted, he hadn't had any whilst he was with Ivan, he never even saw any in the house. Before he knew it, he had drained the whole can.

"Do you have more beer?" He asked.

Antonio grinned, "Gilbert is back!" He called as he went into the kitchen to fetch another can.

Francis continued talking, "Antonio and I were wondering whether you'd been in a coma. Apparently you didn't know what Facebook was, literally no one 'as seen you for years and you're acting kind of reclusive."

Gilbert was trying hard not to laugh, "Well I suppose it's better than Antonio's earlier theory of 'you died and came back to life' but no, I haven't been in a coma, I wrote a letter, remember? I couldn't exactly plan going into a coma."

Antonio walked back in the room and threw the second can to Gilbert. Gilbert caught and opened it before turning his attention back to Francis, "And that's all you were saying? Nothing else?"

Francis smiled, "Nothing else, honest."

Gilbert nodded and was about to start drinking his second can of beer when he froze and looked at it, then back at his friends, "You haven't put anything in this have you?"

They both looked baffled. "Like what, exactly?" Francis asked.

"I dunno, a drug or something."

"Um, Gilbert, it was a sealed can" Antonio pointed out.

"Oh yeah, ignore me."

Antonio sighed, "How come you don't trust us, Gil?"

Trust. That wasn't something he found easy, he was mistrusting of anyone who had walked through Ivan's door, they were almost always in cahoots with Ivan, he couldn't say anything to them. The only two people he had come close to trusting were Ivan's older sister, Yekaterina and his doctor, Toris Loriniatis.

Ivan simply telling his sister to stop talking to Gilbert had worked ending that friendship, if it could be called as such. Yekaterina may have been nice, but she cared deeply for her brother, and would do most anything he asked.

Toris had more of a backbone, Ivan couldn't just tell him to stop talking to Gilbert, he needed to talk to him; he was his doctor. So Ivan had gone to more extreme methods to break their trust.

 _He should have known something was going to go wrong from the start, really. Toris was usually only called if he was needed, a broken limb, perhaps, or a particularly deep cut._

 _But this time, apparently, was just a 'check-up'. Gilbert strolled into the kitchen, it was always where he saw Toris, it would probably be more useful to see him in a room with a bed or comfortable chair of some sort, but Gilbert's comfort was hardly Ivan's first priority._

 _Toris smiled at Gilbert as he entered, "Hi, how are you feeling?"_

 _Gilbert could feel Ivan's steady gaze on him and knew what his answer had to be, "Fine."_

 _Toris nodded, but the worried look on his face showed that he understood it was quite the opposite, "Ivan just wanted me to check that you were, um, okay." He shot Gilbert a puzzled look, so he must have not understood what was going on either._

 _Gilbert walked into the middle of the room and sat on a stool whilst Toris finished preparing his medical equipment. "Right, I'll check your blood pressure first then, could you take your jumper off?"_

 _He did so without complaint, he knew that Toris wouldn't hurt him, he was a doctor, he was just trying to help and he pushed the creeping thought that the young man worked for such a sicko to the back of his mind. He couldn't help thinking the trust he felt for him had a lot to do with the fact that his father was a doctor. Gilbert felt a small pain in his chest at the thought of his father but quickly shook it off, he would probably never see him again anyway._

 _"Okay, 122 over 70, that's normal." Toris's voice brought him back to the room. "I'm going to take some of your blood now, it might hurt, but only for a second." Gilbert nodded and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ivan had dropped his gaze from him and seemed to be looking for something in a drawer._

 _Toris sprayed some weird cold liquid onto his arm and picked up the needle. Gilbert looked back to Ivan, who was walking towards Toris. He was holding a clear bottle and a small box but due to his abnormally large hands, Gilbert couldn't tell the contents of either object._

 _"All done." Toris explained as he started pouring the blood into various different bottles._

 _Suddenly, Ivan dropped the items he had been holding into Toris's lap, the young doctor flinched slightly and splashed a small bit of Gilbert's blood onto the floor. He cursed quietly before turning to the items in front of him, Gilbert followed his gaze and felt his blood run cold._

 _The bottle was a quarter full of a clear liquid and Gilbert didn't need to read the Russian on the label to know that it was vodka, it seemed to be all Ivan drank. The small box was a match box, which Toris had shakily lifted up._

 _"Ivan…" he said slowly, "Why did you give me these?"_

 _Ivan had grinned widely, "Oh, I think we both know the answer to that Toris."_

 _Toris shook his head and moved the bottle of vodka and the matchbox to the side before turning to Ivan, "I may be you employee, but I won't do your dirty work for you."_

 _Ivan's eyes flashed dangerously, he indicated that Toris should walk towards him. Toris did so, but his head was raised and he had a defiant look on his face. I van leaned down and started whispering something in his ear. Gilbert strained to hear but Ivan could make his voice inhumanly soft when he wanted to, Gilbert couldn't catch a word._

 _What he did notice, however, was the look of utter horror that had appeared on Toris's face. Ivan pulled back, a small smile playing on his lips. Toris turned to Gilbert, "I'm sorry, I am so, so sorry." He walked over to the side and ppicked up the bottle and the box. He stared down at them, and then at Ivan, who inclined his head towards Gilbert and mouthed something._

 _Toris came back over to gilbert, who could feel himself shaking, he tried to breathe deeply, but it didn't help. Fuck. He hated looking weak, especially in front ovf Ivan. Toris was mumbling the word 'sorry' over and over again and his eyes were moist._

 _"Gilbert." He said softly, "Lie on the floor, on your front."_

 _Gilbert knew he should resist, run away, at least say something, but Ivan's gaze was once again fixed on him and he knew after four years of taking Ivan's shit that if he did anything against Ivan's wishes, he would only be hurt more. He got off his chair, when Toris said, "Wait!"_

 _Gilbert glared at him, "Yes?"_

 _Toris squirmed under Gilbert's stare, "You should take you top off too."_

 _He nodded and did so, but kept his eyes glaring at Toris the whole time; he would never forgive him for doing this to him. He threw the top to the floor and felt something cold on the back of his neck, it was Ivan's hand, and it was closely followed by his breath – unusually cold for a human – on Gilbert's ear, "You should learn to follow orders quickly, Gilbert."_

 _He was slammed to the floor with immense force, he felt his teeth uncomfortably clash together and the taste of blood filled his mouth; he must have bitten his tongue accidentally._

 _"Ivan! That was unnecessary." He heard Toris say._

 _"Oh, I'm sorry Toris, I didn't realise that this was your house, I didn't realise that you decided what was necessary." Ivan didn't raise his voice when he said it, but a dangerous edge was present in his innocent tone._

 _Toris mumbled back, "Sorry Ivan."_

 _Gilbert heard footsteps shuffling closer and looked towards the direction that they were coming from to see Toris crouched down next to him, he had restarted his constant 'sorry's again as he unscrewed the cap of the vodka bottle. Gilbert turned away from Toris and tried to divert his attention, think of anything but this, he racked his brain for a happy memory as he felt cold liquid pouring unevenly onto his back._

Roderich was giving him a quizzical stare as Gilbert spoke to him, "And then you'll never guess what Francis said-"

"Gilbert." Roderich finally interrupted.

"No! He didn't say 'Gilbert'"

"No, no, that's not what I meant, you fool, I was just trying to catch your attention."

Gilbert frowned, "Were you listening to a word I was saying? Were you ignoring his awesome highness?"

Roderich rolled his eyes, "Well, could your awesome highness please inform your loyal subject as to why a bird is perched on your head?"

 _He heard the match box being picked up, but squeezed his eyes shut and continued to try to think about the time he got Gilbird._

"What?"

"Gilbert. There. Is. A. Bird. Sitting. On. Your. Head."

"There's a bird sitting on my head?"

Roderich sighed, exasperated, "That is what I said."

Gilbert reached up to his head and pulled the small, yellow bird out of his hair.

"Holy shit. It's awesome!"

"It's a chicken, Gilbert. Grow up."

"How dare you! How dare you insult…" He looked at the bird and screwed up his face momentarily "…Gilbird!"

"You're not seriously calling it that are you?"

"Duh." He said and placed it back on his head.

Roderich gasped, "You're keeping it?"

"Yup."

"Won't your Dad get mad?"

Gilbert gave him a very disbelieving look, "Really? He won't even notice."

 _He heard the match being drawn across the side of the box, and although he knew it took mere seconds, to Gilbert it felt like a lifetime. He tried to turn his attention back to his memories but he couldn't for the life of him remember what had happened next._

 _Suddenly, without warning, Gilbert felt heat flood his back. Now warm, pleasant heat, but a burning excruciating pain, even if he had remembered the rest of his conversation with Roderich, there was no way he could have used that memory to distract himself from the sheer torture he was in._

 _He cried out and could feel tears and beads of sweat rolling into one as they streamed down his face. He looked up and could see the shadow of his head dancing on the cupboard that he had landed in front of when Ivan threw him to the floor as the fire ate its way further and further into his already abused back._

 _The smell of burning reached his nostrils, than a far more unpleasant smell; burning flesh. His flesh. He could feel his stomach turn at that, threatening to throw up its contents._

 _He was still screaming, still sobbing, but it was becoming weaker and his vision had began to fade in and out._

 _Toris's voice just about reached his ears over the roaring fire. "Ivan! He's going to die at this rate! We need to put it out!"_

 _"Aww, but he looks so_ funny _like that."_

 _"Ivan! I'm not joking; he'll die if we don't stop it soon."_

 _"Fine, put it out."_

 _Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief, he had been holding on to hear what Ivan would say but now he couldn't for any longer as his vision faded completely and the last thing he felt was cool water hitting is damaged back._

 _Light streamed through the small window in Gilbert's room, highlighting Toris's worried face._

 _Gilbert blinked up at him a few times before saying, "Fuck you." His words sounded slow, clumsy._

 _Toris smiled weakly at him, "You're on quite a few painkillers at the moment." He pointed at Gilbert's right hand, "I've been giving them to you through a cannula in your hand."_

 _Gilbert ignored him and repeated, "Fuck you." Toris looked down at his lap as Gilbert continued, "I thought I could trust you, I thought there may actually be one person in this bleeding world who really wanted to help me out of this mess, but you're just the same as every other piece of scum that Ivan associates with."_

 _Toris didn't raise his head but said quietly, "Be careful, you'll damage your back even more if you move."_

 _Gilbert glared at him, "Oh don't worry, I'm pretty sure you've already fucked up my back completely."_

 _Toris shook his head, "With the right amount of rest and treatment, your back will be fine. It'll leave a scar, sure, but it won't hurt and you'll be able to walk."_

 _Gilbert didn't know what to say to that and there was silence for a long time until Toris murmured, "I didn't want to do it." He said it in a quiet whisper, barely audible, but Gilbert heard it and snarled, "But you did, Dr. Loriniatis."_

 _Toris winced slightly at the use of his title, they had previously always been on a first name basis._

 _He finally looked up from his lap, "Gilbert, I'm going to give you a scenario, you may still hate me afterwards, but you really need to understand why I did it."_

 _Gilbert glared, "Fine, but don't expect any sympathy from me."_

 _Toris glanced at the bandages around Gilbert's waist, "I don't, I only hope you understand."_

 _He breathed deeply and looked directly at Gilbert, "Ivan's keeping you hereby threatening someone close to you, right?"_

 _Gilbert's eyes widened, "How do you-?"_

 _Toris held up a hand to silence him, "He's doing the same to me. Now imagine that person, are they a family member?"_

 _Gilbert frowned, "One of them is, my brother."_

 _"Okay, well imagine Ivan told you that you either had to hurt me or he would hurt your brother. Would you hurt me?"  
Gilbert hesitated for a second, "Are we talking about before you did this to me?"_

 _Toris nodded._

 _"I'd hurt you." Gilbert said bluntly._

 _Toris nodded again, "Exactly, even if you didn't want to. I never wanted ti hurt you Gilbert, honest, but the person Ivan's threatening to keep me working for him means the world to me."_

 _The anger Gilbert had been feeling towards Toris started to ebb. He had a point; however horrible what toris had done to him was, Gilbert knew he would have done exactly the same if Roderich or Ludwig were in danger._

 _"Who is it?"_

 _Toris smiled, "My lover, he's called Feliks, he's very dear to me, but he's a bit um…" Toris laughed sheepishly, "…He's not the smartest, and he's not very logical, I van could easily hurt him because he'd fall for his bait before he even set it."_

 _Gilbert snorted as Toris checked his watch, "I should be getting home to him now actually, but I'll check on you tomorrow."_

 _Jealously overwhelmed Gilbert at Toris's mention of going home and it must have shown on his face because Toris smiled apologetically down at him from his now standing position, "I wish I could help you, I really do, but Ivan has far too much control over me."_

 _Gilbert nodded and Toris headed towards the door, just as he was a about to leave, he turned around, "If, by some miracle, you don't hate me, don't act that way when Ivan's around."_

 _Gilbert shot him a puzzled look, "Why?"_

 _"He did this so you would hate me; he's trying to make it so you have no one to turn t, if he sees that this hasn't worked…he'll probably do something worse."_

 _Gilbert laughed bitterly, "He can do worse?"_

 _Toris put his finger to his lips, "Ssh, he'll be home soon."_

 _Gilbert scowled, "This isn't home."_

 _Toris threw him one last apologetic look before leaving the room and heading outside._

"I'm sorry." Gilbert said, "I do trust you, I just…I've had a few too many drinks spiked." He lied.

"Really?" Francis asked.

Gilbert nodded, "Yeah, but I found out before I drank the damn things."

Eventually, the conversation veered away from Gilbert, and he was extremely grateful. However much he loved himself, he really wanted to know more about his friends' lives since he had been gone.

By early morning, Francis and Antonio were singing at the top of their voices, drunk out of their minds. Many years ago, Gilbert would have joined in, but even though he knew that there was no way that Francis or Antonio could have touched his drink before he opened it, he hadn't touched his second can of beer.

He stood up and yawned, "I'm exhausted, I'm going to head off to bed."

Antonio looked at him, "Que? What time is it?"

"It's about 2 o'clock."

Antonio jumped up, his eyes wide, "Fuck, I have work in the morning!"

Francis and Gilbert laughed as Antonio ran upstairs, Gilbert followed him, "Night, Francis."

"Ah, bonne nuit Gilbert, unless you'd rather spend ze night with me," he added, winking, "I'm kidding! No need to look so 'orrified! I'm not zat bad!" He laughed as he walked into his bedroom.

Gilbert entered his room and walked to his bed, trying to avoid the laptop in the dark. He lay down and braced himself for the nightmares he knew would come.

.

Much to Gilbert's dismay, he was woken early in the morning by Antonio noisily getting ready for work.

Disgruntled, he trudged slowly downstairs, poured himself a bowl of cheerio's and sat down at the dining room table to eat them.

Antonio ran down and Gilbert almost choked on his cereal, "Dude! You're wearing a suit! You actually have a proper job?"

Antonio grinned at him as he picked up the post, "Yup, I'm training to be a teacher. By July, I'll be fully qualified."

"Cool." Gilbert remarked before going back to his breakfast. Antonio was now flicking through the post, "Bills, more bills, junk and…oooh~ a wedding invitation!"

Gilbert looked up, "Whose wedding?"

"Just some friends of mine, I don't think you know them. I work with the bride, but it was the groom I met first actually." He laughed as he put the invitation in the kitchen, "I met him in a gay bar."

Gilbert laughed, "Does she know?"

"Who? His fiancée? Probably. She, er, she has a thing for gay and bisexual men." Antonio walked out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee and sat down with Gilbert. "What she _doesn't_ know though, is that I've slept with him. Although, then again, she probably wouldn't mind all that much."

Gilbert laughed again, "Priceless, doesn't that make it really awkward between you two though?"

"Nah, he just pretends it never happened…But I bet he dreams about me naked."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows, "I wouldn't count on it mate."

Antonio stood up, started heading towards the door and stopped, pointing at his ass, "'Dat ass is offended. Anyway, I should probably be off" He picked up a bag by the front door, "I'm gonna be late for work at this rate, and I wouldn't want to miss all those children." He winked at Gilbert, "Adios!"

"Ciao!" Gilbert replied.

As Antonio left the house, Francis emerged from his bedroom, looking far less cheerful, "'Ow come I seem to 'ave a permanent 'angover?" He grumbled as he slouched into the kitchen. Gilbert grinned and followed him, "Maybe you should stop drinking so much." He said, placing his now empty bowl next to the sink amongst many other pieces of dirty crockery. Gilbert got the impression that Francis and Antonio didn't clean up very often.

"Pfft. That's coming from you?"

"Well, if you hadn't noticed, I didn't get completely pissed last night."

"Hmm, zat is true, 'ow come? I always thought you were very fond of beer."

But Gilbert wasn't listening; next to all the dirty crockery was a piece of card with a picture on it. The people in the picture looked so familiar, but it couldn't be…


	5. Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the benefit of my foreign readers, I'm going to explain a couple of things about the English schooling system that will be relevant in this chapter and later chapters.
> 
> Okay, first of all, from the ages of 4 to 11, we go to 'primary school' (so that's elementary school for the Americans, I believe).
> 
> Then from the ages of 11-16(compulsory)/18(not compulsory, but most people stay until they're 18) we go to secondary school.
> 
> There are a few different types of secondary school; I'm going to explain the ones that are relevant to this fic, although there are more.
> 
> A comprehensive school is basically your average school, you don't have to pass an exam to get in, just live in the required catchment are. (Gilbert, Antonio etc. went to a comprehensive school)
> 
> A grammar school is a school that you must pass an exam to get into. Commonly, grammar schools are one-gender schools, but not always. I go to a mixed-sex grammar school~ (Ludwig, Feliciano etc. went to a boys' grammar school)
> 
> A private school is a school that you generally have to pass an exam to get into and you have to pay extortionate fees for. Even more commonly than grammar schools, private schools are one-gender institutions (Roderich, Vash etc. went to a boys' private school and Elisaveta, Lily(Liechtenstein)etc. went to a girls' private school)
> 
> Oh and our exams are called GCSEs and A levels, GCSEs we take in years 9/10/11 and A levels we take in the sixth form(that's the last two years of school) or college. (There are other types of qualifications, such as B-techs, but they won't be relevant to this story~)

_Dear Antonio Fernandez Carriedo_

 _and Lovino Vargas_

 _You are hereby invited to the wedding of_

 _Elisaveta Hedervary_

 _and_

 _Roderich Edelstein_

 _on the 8th of June, 2011_

The writing was in fancy gold lettering and printed onto a cream background. Next to the writing was the picture that had drawn Gilbert's attention to the invitation in the first place.

Roderich looked incredibly similar, if slightly less skinny, to the last time he had seen him, the day that Gilbert had disappeared to live with Ivan.

 _He and Roderich were sitting in their usual spot, a small courtyard near to Gilbert's school that they had been meeting in since year 7. Gilbert was sprawled out on a bench and Roderich was seated upright, reading through his teacher's notes on his latest piece of music for his A level course._

 _Gilbert looked at him and shook his head, "You're not seriously doing homework, are you? It's the first day of the half term: chill!"_

 _Roderich sighed, "Unlike you, Gilbert, some of us actually want to do well in life."_

 _"I do want to do well in life! I just have my own, awesome, way of going about it."_

 _"And what would this 'awesome' way entail?" Roderich asked, putting his notation paper away in his school bag and turning his full attention to Gilbert._

 _Gilbert propped himself up on his elbows and grinned, "I've got my driving test tomorrow."_

 _"Is this part of your not failing at life, or did you just get sidetracked?"_

 _"Er, a little bit of both."_

 _Roderich sighed again and pushed his glasses up his nose, but he seemed to be smiling, "And how do you know you'll pass?"_

 _"Because the word 'fail' isn't in my vocabulary…Unless I'm laughing at someone else."_

 _"Well, good luck then."_

 _"Pfft, don't need it. But, hey, you know what this means, right? I'll be able to drive tomorrow?"_

 _Roderich blinked at him, "Er, yes, what of it?"_

 _"We should totally go somewhere!" Gilbert exclaimed, raising his arms dramatically into the air._

 _Roderich sat up a little straighter, looking rather interested, "Where did you have in mind?"_

 _"I dunno, I'll probably make it up on the spot, it's half term, it's not like we haven't got a whole week of larking about and avoiding coursework ahead of us."_

 _Roderich seemed quite excited now, "Could we go to London? I've always wanted to go there again, Daddy took me as a young boy, to see a concert." He had quite a dazed look on his face now._

 _Gilbert grinned, "Sure, London would be fun."_

 _Roderich stood up, "I'd better go and start preparing then." He turned to Gilbert, "You'd better pass that exam!"_

 _"I will!" Gilbert laughed as Roderich picked up his bag and swung it over his shoulder. He turned back to Gilbert again, "When should I meet you tomorrow?"_

 _"Well, my exams late morning…would three be cool?"_

 _Roderich nodded, "And we're meeting here, right?"_

 _"Duh."_

 _Roderich looked like he was about to walk away, but at the last second, he leaned down and kissed Gilbert._

 _He hadn't been expecting it, and Gilbert almost pulled away, but he was pushed against the bench and Roderich pulled away quite quickly, flushed red, mumbled "Bye" and ran off._

 _Gilbert watched him leave. Fuck, he thought. It wasn't that he didn't want to be kissed by Roderich. Hell, he really liked him, not that he would ever admit that. But the familiar feeling of being watched had enveloped Gilbert as he had sat talking to his friend._

 _Sure enough, Ivan was now walking towards him from a cluster of nearby trees. Gilbert stood up quickly and swung his own bag over his shoulder. He tried to walk away quickly, pretend he hadn't seen Ivan, but Ivan called out, "Gilbert! It's good to see you."_

 _'Can't say I feel the same way' Gilbert thought as he turned artound, hands gripping his bag strap just a little too tightly._

 _"You and Roderich are getting close, дa?" Ivan enquired, tilting his head slightly._

 _"What of it?" Gilbert snarled back._

 _Ivan took one of Gilbert's hands off his bag and held it in his own. He smiled, " You belong to me, дa?"_

 _Gilbert pulled his hand away violently and started backing off, "No I don't, Ivan."_

 _Ivan sighed mockingly, "Poor young Roderich is so prone to getting lost, isn't he?"  
Gilbert froze._

 _"It'd be such a shame if he were to make a wrong turn and go missing on his way home."_

 _"You dare touch him." Gilbert said, his mouth running dry._

 _"I'll make you a deal, Gilbert." Ivan smiled, "You come live with me, do everything I ask you to, and I won't lay a finger on pretty little Roderich."_

 _"When exactly?" Gilbert said, trying and failing to keep the fear out of his voice._

 _"Ooh…How about…today?" Ivan said, still in his infuriatingly mocking tone._

 _"But what about my family, and my friends? What am I supposed to tell them?"_

 _A shadow flashed across Ivan's face, and his tone darkened, "Spare me your sob stories, Gilbert. You can go home now, tell your family that you're going somewhere, I'm sure you can make something up, but it had better be convincing because if anyone starts getting suspicious and comes knocking on my door, you can bet Ludwig won't be around for much longer."_

 _Gilbert wanted to hit Ivan; no one hurt his little brother. But he refrained, and simply replied to Ivan in a monotone, "Where should I meet you?"_

 _"Here seems like a good spot," Ivan replied. Gilbert tightened his grip on his bag strap so that he wouldn't lash out. This was his and Roderich's spot!_

 _"Meet me here in three hours." Ivan smiled, but there was a malicious undertone to his voice, "I wouldn't be late if I were you."_

Gilbert frowned, why did every damn memory have to be tarnished with Ivan?

He turned to the woman in the picture next to Roderich. Elisaveta. She looked pretty much the same since he last saw her too, albeit older. He had only seen her briefly, when he was sixteen.

 _Gilbert ran out of the school gates and lifted his arms into the air so that his blazer flapped out behind him, "I fucking love half days!" He shouted to no one in particular._

 _Antonio and Francis walked out after him, laughing._

 _"Keep it down!" Antonio said, but his grin betrayed that he didn't mean it. "So, whaddaya wanna do?"_

 _Francis smiled, "Zere is a girls' private school not too far from here, and it'll be zere lunchtime at ze moment; we could always go and 'ave a little fun."_

 _Lars walked over and placed his hand on Francis's shoulder, "I heard the words 'girls' and 'fun', how old are we talking?"_

 _Cowering under Lars' heavy gaze, Francis replied, "Zere will be young girls zere, Lars, don't worry. So are you coming along?"_

 _Eventually, a group of about ten boys ended up heading towards the school but when they got there, it was Francis who seemed slightly uneasy, "Do you zink we'll get into trouble for zis?"_

 _"Probably" Gilbert said as he strutted through the unlocked gates to the school grounds. The school was big, considerably bigger than the comprehensive that he attended and the grounds were huge. Many girls were taking advantage of the warm weather that day and lounging on the front field, watching a group of sixth formers playing rounders._

 _As the group of rowdy boys entered, a few girls turned their heads and started giggling amongst themselves. Now surrounded by lots of attractive young girls, Francis seemed to regain his confidence and blew a kiss to one of them._

 _The girl smiled and said something to her friends before walking over with them, Gilbert couldn't help noticing that despite the school having a far better reputation than his own, the girls still seemed to wear their skirts half way up their arses._

 _Gilbert passed over the first girl without a second glance, she was pretty, sure, with long black hair and tanned skin, but there wasn't really much to her. His eyes were drawn instead to the girl standing at the back of the group, unlike her friends, she wore her skirt at a reasonable length and she wasn't flirting with the boys. In fact, she looked uncomfortable, her boater hat shadowing her bowed head and her feet shuffling from side to side._

 _She looked behind her at the rounders game and then quickly glanced at Gilbert before looking down to her feet again. For some reason, Gilbert felt like he knew her, but he was pretty sure there was no way he had associated with a private school girl, unless she had gone to his primary school. He started shifting through all of the girls he knew at primary school, but none of them even remotely resembled the one standing in front of him._

 _And then it hit him._

 _He looked back at the girl; his realisation must have shown on his face as when she caught his eye, her eyes went wide and she flushed slightly. She tapped on one of her friends arms and said quietly, "Lily, can we carry on watching the game, I was kind of enjoying it."_

 _Lily turned to her, smiling, "I'm sure talking to these gentlemen for a couple of minutes couldn't hurt, Liz."_

 _Liz? Was that her name?_

 _"Lily, please."_

 _Lily sighed, "Elisaveta, what's wrong?"_

 _Or not. The girl, Elisaveta, caught Gilbert's eye briefly again, and then turned back to Lily, "Nothing's wrong, I just want to watch them play."_

 _"Well go ahead, but I'm staying here."_

 _Elisaveta sighed, took one last, fleeting glance at Gilbert and ran back across the field._

 _Gilbert stood in shock for a couple of seconds, it was no doubt she was the person he was thinking of, she still ran the same way and her voice, despite being considerably higher, was still familiar to him. But the one thing he just couldn't get his head round was that the last time he had met Elisaveta, he was pretty certain that she was a boy._

He stared at the picture for a little while longer; it seemed so weird to see those two together. He had known them both, been very close to them both, but he had known them at different points in his life, to him they were completely separate people, yet here they were, smiling side by side, engaged to each other.

Gilbert turned around; Francis was giving him a puzzled look. Gilbert frowned, "What's up?"

"You were standing zere for quite a while." He said, waving his hand vaguely in Gilbert's direction.

"Was I? Sorry about that, must have spaced out." Gilbert said before relaxing against the kitchen cupboard.

Francis walked over to the sink, placing his empty coffee mug next to the sink. He frowned, "This really needs cleaning."

Gilbert stood up abruptly, "Well, you have fun with that; I've got stuff to do today."

Francis gave him a slightly lost look, "You expect me to clean all of this by myself?"

Gilbert grinned, "Yup, unless you want to leave it that messy for the rest of the day."

Francis stared at the mess and then gasped dramatically, "Fine!" He pulled on some marigold gloves, "I shall do ze washing up! But I swear, if you don't start doing some chores soon, Monsieur Beilschmidt, I shall throw you out the house with my soapy hands."

Gilbert grinned, "Doesn't Antonio own the house?"

Francis flicked some water at him and said, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Right, where's the phone?"

"Zere's a phone in the lounge, on a small table near ze back of the room."

Gilbert thanked his French friend before heading onto the lounge, his legs felt weak as he walked and he couldn't get the wedding invitation out of his mind.

He was planning to call Ludwig to ask him to take him to Fritz's grave, but he didn't make it to the phone before he collapsed onto the sofa. He could feel himself shaking slightly. He stared at the phone and couldn't help thinking that, right now, his life was going absolutely nowhere; he didn't have a job, he barely knew his friends anymore, he didn't really know how to go about getting a job, especially as he had never even finished his A levels.

He felt like crying, but Francis was just in the kitchen, and the walls were quite thin so instead he closed his eyes and wished that the ground would just open up and swallow him whole.

.

Eventually, he pulled himself together and rang Ludwig. He was more than happy to take him, especially as Gilbert hadn't been anywhere but his house and Antonio's house since he had left Ivan's.

He waited outside for his brother, enjoying the fresh air on Francis and Antonio's relatively quiet street, I van had never allowed him outside the front door and even now, Gilbert felt like he was doing something wrong. He started to feel uncomfortable and was relieved when his brother turned up relatively soon.

"Hey" Ludwig said as his older brother fell into the seat next to him.

"Hey" Gilbert replied.

"You actually going to wear a seatbelt this time?"

Gilbert frowned, but pulled the seatbelt across himself. Immediately, he felt pinned down, trapped. He reminded himself that the only other person in the car was Ludwig, who probably had no intention of hurting him. It didn't help much, and the fact that he was in a car in the first place was freaking him out a bit, he felt cramped and isolated. He stared out the window, longing to be there.

"Bruder!" Ludwig suddenly shouted and pulled the car to the side of the road.

Gilbert had started hyperventilating, and a worried Ludwig looked on, slightly clueless as to what to do. Gilbert waved his hand, trying to calm his breathing, "I'm…fine." He said, waving his hand to indicate that Ludwig should carry on driving.

"Are you sure?" Ludwig asked, looking entirely unconvinced.

"Yeah, just give me a minute."

The rest of the journey passed without incident, but Ludwig kept sending concerned glances towards his brother, who kept his gaze fixed outside the window the whole time.

When they arrived at the church, Gilbert felt all the heat leave his face, "You have _got_ to be shitting me." He said, staring at the name of the church. Fucking St. Ivan's. He didn't even know there _was_ a St. Ivan.

Ludwig looked at him, puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Gilbert mumbled back, stepping out the car.

Ludwig made to join him but Gilbert shook his head, "I'd rather be alone."

His little brother looked for a second like he was going to protest, but decided against it, sitting back down and resting his head back. He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and a pen and started drawing something. He handed it over to Gilbert, "That's vaguely the route you take through the graveyard to find his grave."

Gilbert stared down at Ludwig's poorly drawn guide, "To be honest Ludwig, I think I'll find it better _without_ this."

In the end, after getting lost a few too many times, Gilbert returned to the front of the graveyard and followed Ludwig's rough guide. He found Fritz's grave easily this time and placed himself down in front of it. He looked around, he would feel a bit stupid talking if other people were around, but the graveyard was completely empty apart from him.

He sighed and looked again at his grandfather's grave. "Hallo," He started, smiling slightly, "I don't know if you can hear me, I kind of gave up on the whole 'God' idea a few years ago, it's hard to believe there's a guy watching over you and protecting you when you spend every day wishing you were dead. But somehow, I hope that you know what I'm saying," He looked up, "I hope you're watching over me." He looked back at the grave, "I'm sorry I never visited you when you were dying," He could feel his voice choking up and his eyes getting slightly wet, "You meant the world to me, großvater, and I really wish i could apologise to your face right now, even if it meant you scolding me." He smiled slightly, but felt tears falling down his face.

Blue cornflowers were growing near to the grave, Gilbert picked some of them up and began to weave them together subconsciously as he spoke, "A lot of stuff has happened since I last saw you...a lot of pretty awful stuff. I don't know whether you'd be proud of me or not, you always said how brave I was." He contorted his face in disgust, "But I was hardly brave when Ivan was involved, I let him do whatever he wanted with me...but I did it to protect Ludwig, that's a good thing, right? "

A cold wind blew, making Gilbert shiver slightly and look around, he half expected Ivan to be there, it was what he always related the cold to, but the graveyard was still completely empty. "I wish I could tell you more, but I'm not really sure I'm ready to accept what happened myself yet... " He stared down into his lap, where his hands were making the cornflowers into a small wreath. He sat for a few minutes in silence before saying, "I'll come back, I promise, and I'll tell you more." He stood up, delicately placing the flowers on the grave, "Gute nacht, der alte Fritz, rest in peace."

He walked back out of the graveyard, past the creepy church and over to Ludwig's car. He opened the door and sat inside, he was sure it must have shown on his face that he had been crying, but Ludwig tactfully said nothing about it and smiled at him.

"Thanks." Gilbert said.

"It's fine." Ludwig replied as he started the engine of the car and pulled away. Most of the return journey they spent in silence until Gilbert remembered something. "Oh, Ludwig, I looked it up last night, it is legal for you to marry Feliciano."

Ludwig almost crashed the car.

"Who said anything about getting married?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure it was you who brought it up yesterday."

Ludwig was bright red, "I didn't say I was planning to marry him though."

"Awww, but you two look adorable together."

"Say one more word Gilbert, and you can walk home." Ludwig threatened, but he sounded so flustered Gilbert found it hard to take him seriously.

When they got back to Antonio's house, Gilbert thanked Ludwig again and headed inside; he noticed on his way up to the door that another car was parked in front of the drive, it was a small green car that he hadn't seen before.

He assumed someone else must be in the house, and entered cautiously. The door to the living room was closed but Gilbert could hear voices from inside. He glanced in the kitchen briefly, the washing up had only been half completed, Francis must have been interrupted by whoever he was now talking to.

Curious, Gilbert opened the door to the living room. Francis was seated on the same place he had been the night before on the sofa and was listening intently to the man seated on the armchair at the end of the room. Gilbert glanced at the man and smiled; the young, blond man seated there was undoubtedly Arthur Kirkland, the grouchy Brit he had known as a teenager. His smile quickly faded, however, when he noticed how upset Arthur looked.

Francis turned towards Gilbert as he entered the room, "Ah, hello mon ami, I didn't expect you back so soon." Gilbert tried not to snicker as he noticed Francis had forgotten to take his marigold gloves off.

Arthur looked up, his face changing from distraught to surprised, "Bloody hell man, you're still around? I haven't seen you in years!"

Gilbert shrugged and fell onto the couch next to Francis, "I haven't been around for years. Anyway, what's wrong? You look like someone just died." He went quiet for a second, and then quickly added, "No one did die, right? Because otherwise I've just made a really inappropriate comment."

Arthur shook his head, "No one died."

Francis gasped dramatically, "But poor young Arthur feels like dying right now, 'as his 'eart is ripped apart by ze love of is life!"

Arthur gave Francis a rather intense glare, "I didn't say anything about wanting to die, you wanker, and he hasn't 'ripped my heart apart', just kind of trodden all over it."

Gilbert felt a little confused, "Who the hell are we on about?"

Arthur returned to looking miserable, "Alfred."

Gilbert thought for a second, "Your American pen pal?"

"He was, but he moved to England last year and we started getting really close." Arthur sunk lower in the chair, "I thought he liked me, but apparently his over-friendly demeanour, constant flirting and spending almost all of his time with me wasn't because he had a thing for me. Maybe all Americans are just like that."

Gilbert continued carefully, "How'd you find out he doesn't like you?"

Arthur looked like he was about to burst into tears again before he said in a quiet voice, "I tried to kiss him, and he completely freaked out."

Gilbert looked at him incredulously, "And you're asking _Francis_ for advice with your love life?"

Francis threw Gilbert a mock offended look, "It is not like you could offer anyzing better!"

"Fair enough, seeing as the only two people I've ever loved are getting fucking married to each other."

Francis's jaw dropped, "So zat is why you were staring at zat invitation for so long!" He ran off to the kitchen and when he returned, he was holding the cream card in his hand.

He looked at Gilbert, "How do you even know Roderich and Elisaveta?" Before Gilbert could answer, Francis made a little 'hmph' noise before saying, "And why wasn't I invited?"

Arthur smiled slyly, "You weren't invited? What a shame…I was."

Francis pouted and threw the invitation at Gilbert, "You didn't answer my question, how do you know them? They've only really started associating with our group of friends in the last few years, when you were gone."

Gilbert shook his head, "I knew them before that, when I was younger."

Francis raised his eyebrows, "Oh, who knew." He flopped back on the couch, "So we are all unlucky in love it seems."

Arthur groaned, "What if he turns up at my bar tonight?"

"Why would he? If he freaked out when you tried to kiss him, he'll probably try to avoid you." Gilbert pointed out.

Arthur smiled bitterly at him "Gilbert, he lives with me."

"Oh. Damn, that's gonna be awkward."

"You're telling me!" Arthur buried his face in his hands, "Fingers crossed he'll get back really late once I'm already asleep, and then leave early in the morning."

Gilbert glanced at the clock on the wall, it was early afternoon, "Shouldn't you be at your bar right now? It's lunchtime."

Arthur lifted his head and shook it, "I have staff; I've left Mathias in charge… on second thoughts, that's probably not a very good idea."

An idea suddenly came to Gilbert, "Er, Arthur? You don't happen to have any jobs going at your bar? I'm kind of in desperate need of a job; otherwise I'm going to drain my brother of all his money."

Arthur looked surprised, "You don't have a job?" He smiled, "Sure you can work for me, it'd be good to catch up on where you've been too, I haven't seen you in years! Your father used to ask about you a lot, how come you left without telling him where you were going?"

Gilbert started feeling uncomfortable again; must everyone ask so many damn questions? "I'm not a child; my dad doesn't need to know everything I do." It came out a little more aggressively than he had planned and Arthur looked rather taken aback.

"Right, sorry."

Gilbert sighed, "I'm pretty tired, I might go rest, could you wake me when Antonio gets home?"

Francis smiled at him, "Sure." Then he paused. "Gilbert, why are you always so damn tired?"

Gilbert shrugged and headed out the room. When he got to his room he glanced in the mirror, noticing huge bags hanging under his eyes. He made a mental note to buy make-up to cover it up as soon as he had the chance as he curled up on his bed and drifted to sleep.


	6. Bad Friends

In the end, Francis didn't need to wake Gilbert up as he was woken once again by Ivan invading his dreams. It was still light outside and it streamed through the top and bottom of his curtains. He squinted at the clock across from his bed; it had gone five. He smiled; he had been able to sleep quite a few hours, more than he had for the last few days at any rate.

He stood out of bed and yawned, stretching his arms out to loosen them up. He headed to the bathroom; he didn't care if Francis and Antonio were impartial to his slight lack of hygiene, he felt disgusting.

He stripped off and caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His face twisted as he did and he looked away quickly, not wanting to see the marred mess his body had become.

He turned the shower on and waited a few seconds for it to warm up before stepping under the running water. He winced as it hit his more recent wounds but quickly adjusted to the stinging sensation. After washing his body and hair, he quickly towel-dried himself and got dressed in the bathroom. He had brought clothes with him so as not to bump into Francis, or Arthur is he was still here, when he walked across the hallway to his room wrapped in only a towel.

After hanging up his towel and dumping his clothes in the washing basket, he ran downstairs. His hair was still wet, but it was so short that it would be dry in no time. He walked into the living room, where Francis was sipping wine and watching some boring cooking show.

Gilbert leaned against the doorway and scrutinised his friend, "Do you drink anything but wine?" He asked.

Francis looked up at him, smiling, "Not really, no. I drink coffee in the morning, and then wine for the rest of the day. Life is short, one must enjoy it."

Gilbert snorted and walked over to the armchair that had earlier held Arthur. Francis picked up the remote from the coffee table and muted the television before turning back to Gilbert, "Did you sleep well?" He sounded almost suspicious.

"Better than usual"

"Hmm, then usual must not be very good; you were shouting out."

Gilbert felt a sweat break out over his body, "Shouting out? What was I saying?"

"You weren't saying anything as such, or not intelligible words, there was just a lot of screaming." Francis frowned, "I wish you'd tell us what was wrong."

Gilbert looked away from Francis, " _Nothing_ is wrong, why will no one get that?"

Francis looked like he was about to respond but at that moment the door opened and Antonio barged into the room.

"Hola mis amigos!"

A disgruntled Lovino was standing in the hallway behind him, "English, please Antonio! No one wants to hear your shitty language."

Antonio turned to him, "You're just saying that because you prefer it when I only speak Spanish to you."

Lovino blushed furiously, "That's not true."

Antonio laughed, kissed Lovino on the cheek and turned back to his friends, "Francis, do you mind cooking tonight? I seem to be doing a lot of the cooking lately, and you're supposed to be the chef!"

"Yes, so I have to cook non-stop whilst I am at work!" Francis complained, but he said it in a light-hearted tone and stood up to go the kitchen. Antonio followed Francis into the kitchen and Lovino tagged after him. Gilbert, now feeling a little left out, stood up and headed there too so as not to be lonely.

As Francis cooked the pot-au-feu he had decided on for dinner, Antonio idly talked away to Lovino and Gilbert about his day at work. Gilbert stayed quiet most of the time, but he couldn't help noticing how much Lovino rejected Antonio's constant advances, how _uncomfortable_ he looked. He shook it off, he was probably just over-reacting.

Antonio continued to talk. Lovino continued to squirm. Gilbert just stared.

After a while, he couldn't take it anymore. "Just leave him alone." He said it quietly, almost to himself. But Antonio seemed to hear him and stopped mid-sentence, "Huh? You say something?"

Gilbert waved his hand in the young Italian man's direction, "When he says to leave him alone, leave him." He said, a little louder this time.

Antonio looked puzzled for a second, and then broke out into a grin, "Lovino doesn't mean it when he says that, he loves me really." When he said that last part, he leaned over to Lovino who batted him off.

Gilbert was getting frustrated, "Can't you see he doesn't like it?" He hadn't realised how much he had raised his voice until even Francis stopped to look at him. But he didn't care, he carried on, "When people say 'stop', Antonio, it's generally what they fucking mean! So leave off him already."

Antonio looked slightly shocked, Lovino even more so, he spoke up, "It's alright," He frowned, "I don't mind Antonio being all touchy, I just wish he wasn't so _public_ about it."

Antonio was still silent, and looked slightly offended now by Gilbert's outburst. Gilbert noticed his own breathing starting to get heavy and realised he was going to start hyperventilating again. He threw his hand in the direction of the window; a still stunned Francis appeared to understand him and opened it so that Gilbert could get some fresh air.

It took him a few minutes to calm his breathing, but once he had, he stood up and ran back upstairs to his room, now craving the loneliness that he had rejected such a short while ago.

.

Antonio watched his friend leave the room in shock; he'd never seen Gilbert act like that before, ever. He had always been very forward himself as a child. Antonio turned to Lovino again, but this time asked cautiously, "I don't make you feel uncomfortable, do I?"

Lovino shook his head, blushing.

Antonio relaxed and took a different angle, "What the hell is his problem?"

Lovino sighed, "So he actually has his head screwed on, and that means he has a problem now?"

"You're just defending him because he took your side!"

Francis walked over and placed his hand on Antonio's shoulder, "I wouldn't take it personally, Antonio. Gilbert seems pretty troubled about something, I'm sure 'e will tell us what eventually, but for now we should probably try and support 'im, getting annoyed at 'im won't do anyone any good."

Antonio looked up at Francis, "And how do you know he's actually troubled about something? Maybe he's right, maybe nothing is wrong."

Francis shook his head, "you didn't 'ear 'im earlier, when he was sleeping, it wasn't pretty. No man who is not troubled screams like zat."

Antonio sighed heavily and sprawled his arms across the table "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But he had no need to lash out at me like that."

After eating dinner and taking Lovino home (he still had a lot of university work to finish, so no matter how hard Antonio begged and pleaded, he refused to stay the night), Antonio headed upstairs to his room to mark some test papers. He flopped onto his bed and pulled out the first one, and rummaged around in his bag for the mark scheme. When he couldn't find he it started searching for his laptop, he was pretty sure he had sent it to himself by e-mail in case this very situation happened.

After a few minutes of pointless searching, he remembered that he had lent his laptop to Gilbert the previous day. Feeling slightly uneasy, he headed over to Gilbert's room and opened his door.

.

Gilbert was getting changed into suitable clothes for sleeping in when he heard the door open behind him, he hastily pulled the top he was holding on and spun around quickly.

Antonio was standing at his door, a slightly puzzled look on his face, "Who's Ivan Braginski?"

Gilbert felt his blood run cold and he stood there, opening and closing his mouth a few times before eventually getting out, "What?"

"I said 'Who's Ivan Braginski?'; it's tattooed onto your back."

He stood staring at Antonio in shock for a few seconds before running past Antonio and into the bathroom, he closed the door behind him and ripped off his top. He turned around so that his back was facing the mirror and looked over his shoulder. Although in the mirror it looked more like 'iksnigarB navI', Gilbert could see what Antonio was talking about. But the 'tattoo' that his friend had noticed wasn't that at all, the name written above the burn scar that Toris had given him was a brand.

Gilbert thought back to when it happened; it was when he had only been at Ivan's for a couple of months, and he hadn't realised at the time what Ivan had burned into him, hadn't realised that Ivan had actually _written_ something, and not just anything, his name.

He laughed bitterly, it sort of reminded him of the way a schoolgirl would write her name on her pencil case, or iron it into an item of clothing. In a way, that was exactly what Ivan had done. The brand was a nametag, it told people who he belonged to.

He pulled his top back on, feeling sick, and headed back out the room. Antonio was still standing in his doorway, "You alright?"

Gilbert nodded, "Yeah, just felt a bit sick and I didn't think you'd want me throwing up all over you."

"So who is he?" Antonio pried as Gilbert walked back into his room and sat on the edge of his bed, "Is he the guy you were with?"

Gilbert stared down at his hands, "Can I ask that we don't talk about this?"

Antonio hesitated for a second, his eyes flicking towards Francis's room before he replied, "Right, sorry. Um…do you still have my laptop? That's actually why I came here in the first place."

Gilbert leaned over his bed and picked the computer up. As he handed it to Antonio, he decided he should probably apologise for his earlier outburst, "I, er, I'm sorry about shouting at you earlier." The atmosphere was more than a little awkward, but Gilbert pressed on, "I just…everything between you and Lovino is totally consensual, right?"

Antonio smiled at him, "Yeah, promise. And, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He took the laptop off Gilbert, "I'll try not to be all over Lovino when you're around."

Gilbert nodded his thanks to him, then remembered what he had planned to talk to Antonio about earlier, before he freaked out about Lovino, "You know your friends? Roderich and Elisaveta?"

"The ones who are getting married, yeah."

"I do know them."

"Really?" He grinned, "What a coincidence! I didn't realise."

"Yeah, I was wondering whether you could tell me where they lived."

Antonio paused, he looked like he was thinking about something. Gilbert was about to press him harder when he replied, "Roderich called me today – whilst I was at work, mind you – he was asking whether I wanted to go round to his place at the weekend, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if ya came along with me."

Gilbert felt the smile on his face widen considerably, "Thanks a lot." He said.

"No problem. Anway, I've got a shit load of marking to do before tomorrow, So I'd better start soon. See ya!"

"See ya." Gilbert repeated back at Antonio as he pulled the door to and left the room.

Gilbert lifted his arm round to his back, running his hand along the name written there, then he gritted his teeth and rammed his fist into the wall.

.

Antonio was on his third paper when his door opened. At first, he thought it was Gilbert, seeing as he had just spoken to him, but as soon as he saw the two glasses of wine held in the man's hands he realised it was Francis.

"Great timing," Antonio said to his blond friend as he perched himself on the end of Antonio's bed, "You can help me mark these French papers."

He chucked a few of the papers in Francis's general direction. Francis rolled his eyes and handed one of the glasses he was holding to Antonio before picking up the test that fell closest to him, "After I brought you wine as well!" He exclaimed.

Antonio laughed, "Gracias."

"De rien." Francis replied before reading the first question on the test and picking up a pen from Antonio's windowsill.

After a few minutes of just the scratching of pens on paper and occasional slurping of wine disrupting the silence in his bedroom, Antonio piped up, "I think I know the name of the guy who Gilbert's been living with."

Francis's head snapped up and a slightly hurt expression was apparent on his face, "He told you?"

Antonio smiled reassuringly at his best friend, "No, I think if he told any of us, it'd be you anyway, I don't think he trusts me. I walked in on him getting changed, I only saw it briefly, but he has a name tattooed on him, 'Ivan Braginski', sounds Eastern European."

Francis's face morphed into a smile, "Onhonhon~ Did you ask about him?"

Antonio nodded, "Yeah, but he looked uncomfortable when I did, so I dropped the subject. I'm guessing they must have had a pretty messy break up or something. Maybe that's what the lack of sleep is about."

Francis shook his head, "I don't zink so, he sounded in pain, but it could have something to do with the reason why he looks so miserable."

They carried on silently marking tests papers for a few more minutes before Antonio threw down his pen in frustration, "Now I'm curious about this Ivan guy!"

Francis gave him a warning look, "Don't press Gilbert about him, wait until he brings it up, he'll tell us when he's ready."

Antonio sighed and relaxed against the wall and picked up his pen again, "I guess…I hope that's soon."

Francis suddenly smiled, "I think this is the first time Gilbert hasn't barged in on us whilst we were talking about him." He quickly glanced up at the door, daring it to prove him wrong, then turned back to the paper he was marking, with a frown on his face, "This student really sucks at French."

.

The next day, Gilbert sat eating his breakfast whilst reading the phone number list from Ludwig. He considered calling his father and arranging to meet him properly but it was Mathias's number his eyes kept lingering on.

Decided, he placed his now empty bowl by the sink, which he noticed Francis had completely finished cleaning. He headed to the phone and was about to dial Mathias's number, but he couldn't help remembering his hands-on approach to life. He wondered if he would be able to cope around such a touchy-feely person, but a lot of years had gone by, and people changed. Perhaps he wasn't quite as bad now. Although judging by Arthur's comment about him the previous day, that wasn't the case.

He sighed and rang the number anyway; he didn't have to arrange to meet up with him straight away, a phone call would do for now, it would just be nice to talk to him again.

The phone rang a few times before he heard someone at the other end, "Hej Francis! Or is this Antonio?"

Gilbert smiled to himself; trust Mathias to not even wait for the person calling to introduce themselves, "Neither, it's Gilbert."

"What?" The Dane expressed loudly, "You live with Antonio and Francis? But I've been round there loads and I've never seen you! Not once!"

Idiot. "I've only just started living here; I've been away for a long time."

Mathias's tone sobered slightly, "I noticed…it was never the same without you there."

Gilbert felt quite touched by Mathias's comment, but was far too awesome to actually admit that to him. "I, er, I just called to ask how you were."

Mathias laughed, not because anything was funny, but probably just because he was happy, "I'm great!"

Gilbert couldn't help feeling that Mathias was lying, his ever cheerful tone was slightly flat and the laugh, now he thought about it, sounded a little forced. He paused for a second, "Did you and that Lukas kid ever actually hit it off?"

There was silence for a long time before Mathias eventually said, "Yeah, we were dating for a few years, but he broke up with me about 5 months ago." He heard Mathias sigh lightly, "I haven't really seen him much since." Then his tone lightened, "But that's in the past, right?"

Gilbert was pretty sure it wasn't as 'in the past' as Mathias hoped. He sighed and Mathias continued talking, "Anyway, I'm almost there now, so I might put the phone down."

Huh? "Almost where?" Gilbert asked

"Antonio's house of course!"

"What?"

"That's why you called, right?"

Er, no. Gilbert was about to point out that Mathias had pretty much just invited himself round, but decided that upsetting his friend within minutes of talking to him again after such a long time probably wasn't a good idea.

"Whatever, I'll see you in a sec then, yeah?"

"Yeah, see you!"

Gilbert put the phone down and ran upstairs. He could hear Francis pottering around in the kitchen, so hopefully when Mathias knocked on the door, it would be Francis who would open it and feel his friendly wrath.

It only took a few minutes for Mathias to arrive. Gilbert listened to Francis moving downstairs, when he was convinced he had gone to open the door, he slowly started making his way down.

Francis looked surprised as he opened the door, "Mathias! I wasn't expecting you." He sounded pleased though, so they were obviously still as close as they were in secondary school.

Mathias glomped his younger friend, "I came to see Gilbert…I brought beer!"

Gilbert stayed standing on the stairs so it would be hard for Mathias to forcibly hug him. He grinned at his tall friend, "'Sup." He said.

Mathias grinned back, "Good to see you again! So, who's up for a drink?"

They spent the rest of the day talking; Mathias was the kind of person who could talk for a very long time about absolutely nothing so the day seemed to pass quite quickly and Gilbert felt confident enough to drink a little more beer than he had a couple of days before, he was however cautious that he didn't get drunk; he didn't want to say anything he would regret later.

For the rest of the week, Gilbert didn't do much at all. He talked briefly with Arthur and Mathias again, and Arthur informed him that he would be happy for him to start working next week if he wished.

By the time the weekend rolled around, he was feeling rather bored and was grateful that he had made plans to see Roderich and Elisaveta with Antonio. He wasn't grateful, however, when Antonio woke him at a very untimely hour.

"Gilbert! Rise and shine!" He pulled open his curtains, "It's a brand new day! There are people to see, places to-"

"Okay, okay! Enough with the sunshine and rainbows talk, I'm getting up." Gilbert interrupted.

"Sunshine and rainbows, whut?" Antonio said, then just shook his head and went to leave the room, "I'm all ready, so I'll wait downstairs for ya and we'll head off to Roderich's house"

"Cool, I'll try to be quick." He said.

Once he was washed and changed, he ran downstairs and stuck his head into the lounge, where Antonio was waiting patiently, "I'm ready." He said.

They headed outside to Antonio's car. Gilbert felt a gnawing sensation in his stomach as he saw it, he hated feeling so trapped, but he couldn't imagine how he was supposed to explain to Antonio that he was scared of his car without sounding like a total loony so he kept his mouth shut and simply zoned out, trying to keep his mind off the cramped space he was in.

Gilbert was extremely relieved when they arrived at Roderich's house and got out of the car immediately. He stared up at the house, it was pretty big, in fact, it was huge, Gilbert wasn't quite sure how they had managed to afford it; didn't Elisaveta work with Antonio? So she was probably a teacher, which wasn't exactly the highest paying job in the world.

He turned to Antonio, "What does Roderich do for a living?"

"I thought you knew him?"

"I did, quite a long time ago though."

"He's a musician," Antonio explained as they walked up the driveway, "And he composes music too I believe."

Gilbert glanced at the imposing house in front of them, "I'm guessing that pays pretty well."

Antonio grinned, "Yeah, and Elisaveta comes from a pretty rich family, and I think they support her financially quite a bit."

Gilbert was surprised to hear that at first, she seemed like such a working class kid when he had played with her as a child, but then her private school education came to mind and he quelled his surprise.

When they got to the door, they noticed a small sign had been pinned up. Gilbert leant forward and scrutinised the loopy handwriting. It read:

 _Dear Antonio,_

 _I am currently dropping Elisaveta off in town to meet with some of her friends. I shan't be long, but if you don't want to be kept waiting, feel free to use the key that I have left underneath the doormat to let yourself in and make yourself at home. But please don't break anything._

 _Sorry for any inconvenience caused,_

 _Roderich_

Gilbert read it a couple of times and then burst out into laughter, "He could have just written, 'I'm out, be back soon.'"

Antonio shook his head, chuckling slightly, "And he probably shouldn't have written where he left the key in plain view of anyone who came to the door. He can be such an idiot"

Antonio leaned down, lifted up the doormat and pulled the key out from underneath it, he opened the door and headed inside. Gilbert felt his stomach tighten slightly; he couldn't help noticing how similar the layout of the house was to Ivan's, but the furnishings and colour scheme were vastly different. There was a lot less red.

Curious now as to what the rest of the house looked like, he wanted to take a look around but didn't think there was any way he would be able to ditch Antonio to do so. Thinking on the spot, he turned to his friend, "I need the toilet; I'll be back in a sec."

He ran upstairs without waiting for Antonio to respond. He noticed the bathroom was near to the stairs, and made a mental note to flush the toilet when he went back past it, so his cover for simply being nosy was realistic.

The next room he looked in was obviously their bedroom, Gilbert felt mildly amused at how feminine it looked. Either Elisaveta had decorated, or Roderich had the taste of a woman. More likely the latter.

He wasn't sure how much time he had, so he didn't stop to nose around the room. Instead, he poked his head round the doorway of the room next to it and felt his mouth drop open. It was filled with instruments; woodwind, strings, brass… Roderich seemed to have a whole orchestra hidden in here. Although saying that, there wasn't a piano anywhere in sight, but perhaps it was downstairs somewhere, dragging a piano upstairs didn't come across as a particularly pleasant task

He walked in the room, all thoughts of getting back downstairs quickly flying right out the window. He headed straight over to the violin lying in its open case, it seemed to be calling him, teasing him.

He leant down and picked it up carefully, it was a full-size violin but it still felt incredibly light, he lifted it up and placed it under his chin, smiling at how familiar it felt.

 _Gilbert kicked at the yellowing leaves that littered the pavement. School had been ridiculously boring that day, and he really just wanted to get home._

 _Passing the courtyard he always did on his way back from school, he heard a small, pitiful whimpering sound and turned to see what was making it._

 _A young boy in very smart uniform was sat on the floor, looking helplessly at the blood that was oozing from his knee. Gilbert rolled his eyes and headed towards the boy._

 _"Oi, Priss, whatcha doing on the floor?"_

 _"I fell over" The boy sniffed, "What does it look like?"_

 _"It looks like you're being a whiney bitch" Gilbert said, but he swung his bag off his back and started rummaging around in it._

 _The young boy gave him a quizzical look, "What are you looking for?"_

 _Gilbert didn't respond, but carried on searching through his bag until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small box of plasters and handed one of them to the kid, "For your knee" He explained as he gave it to him._

 _He looked surprised for a second, then warily accepted the plaster, "Thank you." He looked back at Gilbert once he had put it on his knee, "Why the hell do you carry plasters around with you?"_

 _Gilbert shrugged, "My Dad makes me, 'cause apparently I'm always getting into trouble."_

 _Gilbert stood up, "Well, I'm off, watch yourself next time."_

 _"Wait!" The boy called, looking mortified, "I, er, I'm lost." He admitted._

 _"Lost? How'd you mean?"_

 _"Um, I was trying to walk home from school, usually Daddy picks me up but he was busy today so he couldn't, and I think I must have taken a wrong turning somewhere…I don't really know where I am."_

 _Gilbert had to bite his lip to prevent himself from bursting into hysterical laughter, "You got lost?" He taunted, "On your way home from school?"_

 _The boy looked affronted and 'hmph'ed slightly, crossing his arms._

 _Gilbert grinned, "Fine, I'll try and help. Where'd you live?"_

 _"On Fuchsia lane."_

 _Gilbert looked at the school badge on the boy's blazer pocket, then back at his face, "You're joking right? I do know where that is, where all the posh-ass people live, but dude, you took more than just one wrong turning, you've gone completely the wrong way."_

 _The boy's face fell, "Oh, well, could you show me the way?"_

 _Gilbert sighed, so much for getting home quickly but accepted and reached out his hand to pull the boy to his feet. Once he was standing, the boy brushed down his clothes and held out his hand to Gilbert, "I'm Roderich by the way, Roderich Edelstein."_

 _Gilbert shook his hand off, "I don't shake hands, that's just sad." He paused, "You're German?"_

 _Roderich shook his head, "Austrian."_

 _"Same thing, pretty much," Gilbert grinned, "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt. But I'd prefer it if you called me 'Awesome' , or 'He who must be revered and loved'"_

 _Roderich stared at him, "Are you serious?"_

 _"Completely."_

 _He rolled his eyes, "I think I shall call you Gilbert."_

 _"Great! So we get to choose what to call each other? Can I call you Priss? Or is Specs a little more suitable?"_

 _Roderich glared at him, "Can we just find my house please?"_

 _"Right, let's go" Gilbert said as he headed off in the direction of Fuchsia lane._

 _After a few minutes of walking and Roderich saying, "I'm sure it was that way." They arrived at the bottom of the street._

 _"Right, here you go, you can find your house on your own street right?"_

 _Roderich glared at him again "Ja, ja."_

 _"Great, 'cause I need to be heading home myself." He turned around to leave then thought of something and turned back, "And now you owe me."_

 _"What?"_

 _"Awesome helped you, and Awesome doesn't do things for free; you owe me."_

 _Roderich frowned, "What exactly do you want?"_

 _"I dunno…wait, how about you teach me something awesome?"_

 _"But I don't know anything 'awesome'!"_

 _"Sure you do, got any talents?"_

 _Roderich thought for a second, "Well, I do embroidery," Gilbert screwed his face up in disgust as Roderich continued. "And I'm good at cooking, and I can play quite a few instruments."_

 _Gilbert finally looked half-interested, "What can you play?"_

 _"Piano, flute, harp, viola, violin…" He began listing._

 _Gilbert stopped him, ""Okay, okay, I get it; you're a total music snob." He paused "How about you teach me how to play the violin? I'll bet I'll be really good at it."_

 _"Fat chance, but I'll teach you anyhow, I suppose spreading love of music won't hurt." He smiled for the first time that day, "When do you want to start?"_

 _"I'll meet you tomorrow; will you remember how to get to that courtyard?"_

 _Roderich's face returned to a frown, "Probably not."_

 _"Right, I'll meet you outside your school tomorrow, and show you the way, I'm sure you'll remember it eventually."_

 _Roderich nodded and started heading up the road, but after a few metres he turned around and smiled once more, "Thank you" He said._

 _Gilbert grinned back at him, pivoted round and headed home._

Some music was lying open on a stand near to the violin; it looked like Roderich had been playing shortly before he left the house. He looked at the piece, it was one he remembered playing with Roderich as a teenager. He pulled the bow out of the violin case and up to the strings of the instrument.

He began to play, he couldn't remember any of the notes and was concentrating quite hard on the sheet music when he heard a voice call out behind him.

"Hmph , you're out of practice."


	7. Reunion

Gilbert span around to the doorway. Roderich was standing there, leaning against the frame and with a very annoyed expression on his face. As always.

It felt strange to see him again after so long, almost unreal. He grinned, "Hey, what's up?"

"Ceiling." Roderich replied coldly before walking towards him and taking the violin from his hands, "Did your parents never teach you any manners? You can't just storm into people's houses and use their things without permission"

" _Someone_ got out of the wrong side of bed this morning" Gilbert teased. Roderich simply glared at him and started putting his violin back into its case. He snapped the case shut and turned back to Gilbert, "What are you doing here?" He asked, his tone wholly unwelcoming.

Gilbert shrugged, "I haven't seen you in years, I figured saying hello couldn't hurt."

Roderich stormed out the room and headed towards the stairs. Gilbert followed him. Roderich spoke as he descended to the ground floor, "You haven't seen me in years because you abandoned me!"

"Huh?"

Roderich stopped halfway down the stairs and turned to face Gilbert, "You _promised_ me that you'd meet me the next day. I arrived there an hour early and I waited for seven goddamn hours. I went back the next day, in case something had happened to hold you up the day before, but you still didn't turn up. So I went back the next day. And the next." He looked furious as he spoke and his breathing had become heavy from saying so much in such a short space of time.

Gilbert stared back at him dumb founded. What the hell was he supposed to say? _Oh, sorry about that Roderich but a sicko stalker of mine threatened your life so I had to go live with him._ In his head it sounded stupid, unbelievable, and he was pretty sure that was how it would sound to his old friend as well.

Roderich gave him a dirty look before turning back around and clearing the stairs before heading into the living room, where Antonio was seated, "I heard a lot of shouting." He said, "Is everything alright?"

Roderich glared at Antonio, ignoring his question, "What on _Earth_ compelled you to bring _him_ along?" He asked, thrusting his hand at Gilbert as he did.

Antonio blinked back, completely clueless. "Gilbert told me he knew you…I assumed you were on good terms."

Gilbert glared slightly at Roderich now, "We were. But Roderich's overreacting about something that happened years ago."

The furious look he had given Gilbert on the stairs returned to Roderich's face, "I haven't seen you for _eight years_ Gilbert, you could have at least contacted me sooner, rather than turning up almost a decade later, acting like nothing happened."

Antonio interrupted again, "Er, Roderich, I wouldn't take that too personally, no one seems to have seen him in that long. He's been living with some European guy."

Gilbert felt like he could have throttled Antonio there and then. He had planned not to tell Roderich about that part. A hurt look flashed across Roderich's face and he looked back to Gilbert, "You were seeing someone?" He sounded less angry now, just upset, "And you never even told me?"

Gilbert threw up his arms in defence, "I'm sorry, okay? It was a long time ago." He frowned, "And I wasn't seeing him as such."

"Then what was it?"

Gilbert shrugged, "Complicated."

Roderich rolled his eyes, "Descriptive." He said.

There was an extremely awkward silence that followed; no one really knew what to say.

Feeling slightly self-conscious from Roderich glaring at him, Gilbert looked around the room. It had the same feminine feel to it that every other room in the large house had, and in the corner stood a large, impressive grand piano. Gilbert smiled; he knew there would be one somewhere.

"What are you smiling about?" Roderich snapped as he made to sit down.

"Nothing." Gilbert replied. He would have liked to sit down too, but he was pretty sure Roderich would kill him if he did, so he stayed standing.

Antonio clapped his hands together, "Great! Now that's sorted, shall I make some coffee?"

Both Gilbert and Roderich were pretty certain that nothing was sorted, but their arguing was clearly starting to irk Antonio, so they didn't say anything but, "Yes, I'd love some coffee, thank you, but I'll make it. It's my house after all." As he passed Gilbert, he reluctantly asked, "Would you like some?"

Gilbert nodded and once Roderich had left the room, he collapsed on one of the sofas next to Antonio.

Antonio looked at him, "How come he's so angry atcha?"

Gilbert shook his head, "I'm not sure, I kinda hoped he'd be happy to see me…"

Antonio placed a hand on Gilbert's shoulder; he flinched at first, but quickly relaxed.

"I'm sure he'll get over it." Antonio said, "Maybe it's his time of the month."

Gilbert snorted. "I hope he gets over it." He said, sinking further into the couch. But a nagging voice in his head was telling him that that very much wasn't the case.

They had stayed at Roderich's house for another few hours and the atmosphere didn't feel any less tense the whole time. When Antonio stood up and announced that he needed to get home to get some lesson plans finished, Gilbert felt extremely relieved.

They headed towards the front door, then Antonio turned around, "Almost forgot, Roderich, I changed my e-mail address, I'll just quickly right it down for ya."

Gilbert turned to him, "I'll wait outside for you."

"Go ahead." Antonio threw him his car keys, "You can wait in the car if ya want."

"Thanks." Gilbert said and left the house. He started walking down the long driveway when someone turned into it.

For a crazy second, probably since they had surprised him, he thought it was Ivan, but when they came closer he realised it was a woman, and not just any woman. Elisaveta.

She froze as she met his gaze, and her lips parted slightly.

There was silence for a second before Elisaveta shouted, "Prussia!"

He was pleasantly surprised that she remembered his childhood nickname; it had been about fifteen years since they had last talked.

 _He ran into the park alone; things were getting so hectic at home now that Ludwig had been born. And his mother always seemed really upset, so going to the park was a good way to just get away from it all._

 _There was a tree he always loved to climb, it was his tree, but as he approached it today, he noticed someone else was sitting in one of the higher branches._

 _He shaded his eyes from the sun with his hand and looked up. The boy sitting on the branch smiled at him. "Halló!" he said._

 _Gilbert gave him what he hoped was a very unimpressed look, "What are you doing up there?"_

 _The boy looked confused, "I'm climbing a tree, duh."_

 _Gilbert frowned, "Yeah, but this is my tree, go find your own."_

 _The boy just laughed, "Prove it! Come up here and fight me like a real man!"_

 _Gilbert stared at the branch, it was higher than he had managed to go before. "What's wrong?" the boy teased "Can't get this high?"_

 _"I can!" Gilbert shouted defiantly as he placed his left leg in its usual foothold and started hauling himself up. When he got to the branch below the boy he felt himself shaking slightly. He was a little bit scared about trying to get higher; he didn't really want to die at such a young age. But he was awesome! He would have to do this!_

 _He scooted closer to the trunk and pulled himself onto the same branch as the thief boy, who he could now see had light brown hair pulled back into a scruffy ponytail. "Ha!" He shouted, "Told you I could!"_

 _The brunet boy smiled at him, "Fine, but I'm not budging."_

 _Gilbert was about to push him, but couldn't help noticing just how far away the ground looked from here. He didn't imagine his dad would be happy at all if he murdered a random kid in the park._

 _"Hmmm, maybe we can share the tree then, I suppose you did manage to climb pretty high."_

 _"Pretty high? You say that like you went higher than me."_

 _Gilbert grinned, "Is that a challenge? 'Cause I bet you I can!"_

 _The boy looked a little worried now, "The branches above us look a little thin…"_

 _"Pfft. Wimp." Gilbert said and started to try to get to a higher branch._

 _"I really don't think you should do that!" The boy said, shuffling closer to Gilbert, who was swinging his legs over another branch. For a few seconds, it looked like he was doing alright, but then a horrible snap sound rang out as the wood fell from beneath his feet. The other boy screamed and looked like he was trying to catch him. Gilbert crashed into him and they both tumbled to the ground._

 _"Ow!" the boy exclaimed, pushing Gilbert off him and rubbing the back his head. "I told you that wasn't a good idea!"_

 _Gilbert sat up, his knees were bleeding and his arm felt a bit funny but he also felt very accomplished. "Ha! I got higher than you."_

 _"Great, you win, just don't do that again!" He sounded a little worried._

 _Gilbert relaxed against the tree and the boy followed suit. "What's your name?" Gilbert asked._

 _The boy scrunched up his face, "I don't like my name."_

 _"Okay, what should I call you then?"  
The boy thought for a second, "Hungary."_

 _"Hungry?"_

 _"No, Hun-ga-ry. It's where I was born."_

 _"Oh cool, I was born in East Germany."_

 _The boy smiled, "Shall I call you that then?"_

 _"Nah, call me Prussia!"_

 _"Prussia? You mean Russia, right?"_

 _"No! Prussia, with a 'P'"_

 _"…you made that up, didn't you?"_

 _Gilbert smiled triumphantly, "You don't know what Prussia is? What did I expect! Only awesome people know it."_

 _"No, no, I do know it!" Hungary insisted, "I just…forgot!"_

 _The shadows falling on Hungary's face were beginning to stretch and Gilbert could see the sun falling lower in the sky. He jumped up, "I need to get home before dark." He explained, then paused for a second, "Can we play again sometime?"_

 _The boy beamed at him, "Sure! But I'll win next time for sure!"_

 _"Ha! You wish!" Gilbert shouted back at him as he ran off._

 _"Bye, Prussia!" He heard the boy say._

 _"Bye, Hungary!" He called back and ran out of the park to go home._

He had never found out her real name when they were young children; only when her blonde friend had said her name in the incident when they were both teenagers did he ever learn it. In fact, for the five years that he spent playing dangerous and daring games with 'Hungary' in the park he was convinced she was male.

He smiled at her, "Hey, Hungary." He said.

She didn't seem to know what to do at first, but she broke into a smile too, "Long time, no see," She replied, "It's been, what? Ten years?"

"Eight." He corrected her; he was so used to that number by now.

She looked a little puzzled, "Really? I thought we were sixteen…Unless two years of my life didn't actually happen. That'd be awesome; I'd love to be twenty-four again."

Shit. She hadn't known him when he had left for Ivan's, he had forgotten. "Right, sorry, it was ten."

There was a small pause before Gilbert stated the obvious, "So…You're actually a woman."

She blushed slightly, "Yeah, I was wondering when you'd bring that up."

"How come you never mentioned?"

She closed her eyes momentarily and then dropped the shopping bags that she was holding. Gilbert thought she was going to hug him and stepped back slightly. But instead of coming towards him, she reached into her hand bag and pulled out a biro and a scrap piece of paper. She wrote a number down and handed it to him.

"That's my phone number." She explained, "Call me soon, we can meet up, I promise to explain everything."

Gilbert nodded, "Thanks."

Elisaveta picked up her bags again and smiled at Gilbert, "It's good to see you again anyway." She said and started heading towards the house. She paused and turned around, "Wait, why were you in my house?"

He waved his hand in the direction of the doorway, where Antonio was standing, "I was here with Antonio."

She nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer, smiled her hellos to Antonio as she walked past him and headed into the house.

Antonio starting walking towards Gilbert, who heard more noise coming from the front of the driveway. He looked at the direction of the noise and felt his heart stop for a second when he saw who was there. Toris was walking up the drive with a boy(or was that a girl?) who was holding a pair of broken high-heeled shoes in their hands. The boy was saying, "I, like, totally can't believe these heels broke! They were, like, my favourites!"

Toris sighed, "I know, but you got some new ones today anyway, I'm sure you'll be fine." Then he noticed Gilbert and stopped, quite like Elisaveta had, with that same small look of shock on his face.

Gilbert smiled at him, "Hey."

"Hey." Toris half-whispered back, still looking shocked, "You got away from Ivan then?"

The blond man (Or woman, whichever) next to Toris looked at him, "Er, who's Ivan?" He sounded slightly jealous.

"He's my boss, Feliks."

"Oh," The blond looked a little disgruntled, "You're talking about work? Booooring! I'm going inside, don't take too long or we'll, like, leave you outside." He teased. "Just kidding! But I'll see you inside, okay?" He quickly hugged Toris and ran up to the house, still barefoot and holding those ridiculous shoes.

Gilbert returned to Toris's original question, "Yeah, I haven't seen him in about two weeks."

Toris smiled softly at him, "Good, I'm glad." He glanced up at the house, "Didn't know you knew Roderich and Elisaveta."

Antonio butted in at this point, "Wait a second," He said to Toris, "You know Gilbert? How?"

Gilbert tried to give Toris a 'shut up' look but Toris spoke anyway, "I'm his doctor."

Antonio shrugged, "Okay."

Toris turned back to Gilbert, "I haven't seen you in quite a few weeks though, how are you faring?"

Antonio took up interest again, "Woah, woah, woah. You haven't seen him in a few _weeks_? But no one's seen him in years!"

Gilbert could feel his stomach churning, this couldn't be good. Toris snapped his head back to Gilbert and mouthed 'You haven't told anyone?'

Gilbert shook his head. Toris nodded at him, then turned to Antonio, "Of course I've seen him, he's my patient. Anyway, I must be getting inside, Feliks threatened to lock me outside otherwise, although that might be better than being dragged into a sleepover…I'll see you another time though, sudie!"

Gilbert was glad that Toris had been so vague, and had ended the conversation there. Goodness knows how many questions Antonio would have thrown at him otherwise.

Gilbert turned to Antonio, "So, are we going home?"

Antonio nodded, "Yup, Let's go."

.

Elisaveta ran inside the house, feeling strangely happy. She had always felt guilty for leaving Gilbert when they were kids, it would be good to be able to make amends and to simply catch up with how he had been.

She heard noise in the kitchen and walked towards it. Roderich was putting the kettle on and looked considerably more miserable than she was. She dropped her, Toris and Feliks's bags onto the floor before heading towards her fiancé and placing a small kiss on his cheek. She rested her hand on his, "What's wrong?" She asked.

He frowned, "Just a run in with someone I used to know."

She grinned, "Co-inky-dink, same with me…Are we talking about the same person by any chance?"

He looked at her, "You know Gilbert Beilschmidt?"

"Beilschmidt? Is that his last name? I never knew, he always just called himself 'Gilbert the Awesome' or 'Prussia'"

Roderich rolled his eyes, but a slight tug on the corner of his lips suggested that he wanted to smile, "Sounds like him."

Roderich didn't look happy at all about seeing Gilbert again, so Elisaveta decided not to mention that she gave her phone number to him. Instead she said, "I've invited Toris and Feliks to stay for the night, girly sleepover kind of thing."

Roderich looked slightly amused, "You do realise neither of them are girls, don't you?"

"Of course I do, silly, but they are pretty girly for men." She suddenly felt arms wrap around her from behind. She squealed and turned around.

Feliks grinned at her, "Are we talking about me?"

She laughed and took his hands, "How on earth did you guess?"

.

When Gilbert got back home he went straight to his room and flopped down on his bed. He couldn't believe that one of the men he had spent eight years of his life going through hell to protect now appeared to hate his guts.

Roderich could be such an asshole, all he thought about was himself, he hadn't even asked Gilbert where he had been, as everyone else had. Gilbert thought he would have been happy that there was someone who didn't non-stop question him all the time, but now that it had happened, he was simply hurt by the lack of care that Roderich had showed for him.

He pulled his legs to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. He supposed he could still try to fix his friendship with Roderich, he had his fiancée's number after all. He pulled it out of the pocket and smiled he got the piece of paper Ludwig had given him and copied Elisaveta's number onto it before slipping it back into his pocket.

His thoughts panned back to Roderich, and his hurt face when he thought that Gilbert had been dating someone else when he knew him as a teenager. He buried hi face in his knees and, not caring for once if Antonio or Francis heard him, he burst into tears.

.

The next day when Gilbert half-sleepwalked downstairs, Francis smiled at him, "Bonjour Gilbert!"

"Mornin' Francis." Gilbert yawned, "You're not hung over for once."

"Non, but dear Antonio is."

Gilbert was surprised, "He went out last night? I didn't realise."

"Oui, oui, with Lovino. They both came back completely 'ammered; it was 'ilarious!"

Gilbert grinned and started pouring his usual Cheerios into a bowl.

"Oh, your Dad called last night." Francis said pulling two mugs out of the cupboard, "Coffee?"

Gilbert nodded, "What did he say?"

"'E just wanted to know if 'e could see you sometime soon."

Gilbert grunted in response and quickly downed his Cheerios. "I'd better call him back."

He headed into the lounge and over to the phone, dialling his Father's number. The phone rang once before someone picked up, "Hello! This is Paolo Vargas-Beilschmidt, can I help you?"

The voice was young and Gilbert didn't recognise it, although judging by his name he was his Father and Julius's adopted son or something.

"Yeah, can you put your Dad on?"

There was a pause, "Er, which one?"

Oh yeah. "The one who looks like a woman."

He heard laughing over the phone and it went silent for a little while before he heard his father's voice, "Hello?"

"Hey Dad, it's me again."

"Gilbert?" There was short pause, "Why was Paolo laughing?"

"I told him you looked like a woman, sorry 'bout that." He didn't sound that sorry though, he was trying to stop snickering himself.

"I've been told, many a time." His father said, clearly not amused.

"Sorry, I didn't really know what else to say. Anyhow, Francis told me you called last night."

"Mm, I was wondering if you wanted to come round for a meal sometime this week…only if you're feeling up to it of course."

Gilbert smiled, "That'd be great Dad."

He heard his father let out a little relieved sigh. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm sure."

"It's just…you seemed so ill last time I saw you…"

"Dad, you starting to sound like you don't want me there."

"No! No, I do, I'm just worried about you."

Gilbert sighed, "I thought we went over this? Everything's cool, I'm fine. I'll see you later in the week then, which day's best?"

"…Is Tuesday good?"

"Er, I think I'm working Tuesday evening, is Wednesday alright?"

"You got yourself a job?" He sounded surprised.

"Yeah, just working in a bar. It's only temporary, I'll get a proper job eventually."

"Okay, well Wednesday is fine, see you then."

"See you." He put the phone down and relaxed onto the sofa. Francis walked in the room.

"When are you seeing him?" He asked.

"Wednesday, I'll probably go round late afternoon."

"Ah, good, I'll be at work anyway. Poor Antonio will have the house to himself…then again he'll probably love that, goodness knows what he and Lovino will get up to." He smiled knowingly at Gilbert and handed him the coffee he had made for him.

.

Aldrich placed the phone down and turned around to see Julius frowning at him. He sighed, "What's wrong?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'."

He raised his eyebrows at him, "You know I do."

"No, not to me, you idiot, to Gilbert."

Aldrich frowned, "He's my son, he knows I love him."

Julius smiled sadly at him, "Does he?"


	8. Mother

_"Mother is Матери."_

 _"Mut-ye-ri?"_

 _"More of an 'a' sound than a 'u' sound at the start." Yekaterina explained to Gilbert as she tucked her feet underneath her._

 _Gilbert had been surprised when he first met Yekaterina by the sheer lack of attraction he felt towards her. She had hips and breasts three times the size of any other woman he had ever met and she had the kind of ditzy cuteness that many people would find adorable._

 _But as soon as Gilbert met her, he didn't know why, maybe it was because she was a lot older than him, or because she resembled his own, he couldn't help seeing a sort of mother in her._

 _He hadn't known his own mother very well. She had contracted post-natal depression after having Gilbert and the conditions they were living in at the time in East Germany weren't helping her at all. When they had moved to West Germany after the fall of the Berlin wall, she had improved slightly, they were some of the only times Gilbert could remember her laughing. Then she became pregnant again and spiralled back into depression. His father had done everything to try and help her and eventually they had even moved to England, hoping for a better life. But simply a few months after Ludwig was born, when Gilbert was only six years old, she had killed herself._

 _At the time, of course, he hadn't really understood what had happened, except that he never saw his mother anymore and his father was even more distant than he had been before. Years later, his father had explained his mother's death to him and there was always that nagging thought in the back of his mind that it was sort of his fault._

 _He hadn't talked to Yekaterina much at first, in all honesty he was slightly scared of her; he had had bad experiences with both her younger siblings and seeing as they were brought up together, it was logical to think that they would act quite similar._

 _The first time he had really spoken to Yekaterina was when Ivan was away for a short time. He did that sometimes, Gilbert assumed it was something to do with his 'business' but he wasn't entirely sure as he didn't understand a word of the Russian that Ivan spoke on his phone calls arranging to meet up with his clients._

 _Whenever Ivan left the house, he left someone there, probably partially just to look after the house, and partly to keep an eye on Gilbert, make sure he didn't try to leave._

 _Before, he had left Natalia, which had ended awfully and Gilbert tended to lock himself in his room when she came round. Thankfully, Natalia had gone with Ivan once and he had instead left Yekaterina._

 _Gilbert had hidden in his room at first and he could remember feeling absolutely terrified when she had knocked on the bedroom door._

"Gilbert?" She had said cautiously, "Could you open the door?"

He pushed his bed against the door and shouted, "No!" He hoped as hard as he could that she wouldn't tell her brother he had been so noncompliant.

He heard her burst into tears beyond the door. Fuck, she was probably just like Ivan. He would commonly become 'upset' if Gilbert didn't listen to him, or sometimes for reasons Gilbert didn't even understand. And upset Ivan was somehow even more disturbing than an angry Ivan.

He could hear her sobbing getting more intense. He felt a little bit bad, making a woman cry, but she was Ivan's sister, goodness knows what she would do if he opened the door.

"O-okay" She choked out, "I'll just leave your food outside the room then." He heard her run downstairs, still sobbing.

When a couple of minutes had passed and he was certain that Yekaterina wasn't returning anytime soon he slowly pushed his bed away from the door and opened it.

On the floor in front of him was a tray laden with a plate of weirdly shaped dough things and a glass of water. He stared at it warily; goodness knows what she had put in the small dumplings.

His stomach grumbled loudly, he was so hungry, and the food looked so tempting…

Without caring how ill he would get by eating the food, he picked up the tray and headed back into his room. He pushed the bed once again against the door in case the food was intended to put him to sleep so she could do something to him whilst he was unconscious.

He picked up the cutlery that was half underneath the plate on the tray and suspiciously cut open the first dumpling, it seemed to be filled with a sort of minced meat. Gilbert tried it and damn did it taste good. He shovelled the rest of them down and drained the water in one gulp. He panicked slightly then; what if Yekaterina had put a deadly poison in there? Dying wouldn't be so bad, it would mean no more Ivan, but he was sure it would somehow be his fault and he dreaded to think what Ivan might do to Ludwig or Roderich.

Would throwing it up get rid of the poison? He hoped so and started moving his bed again. He launched out of his room and towards the bathroom but to his horror he bumped into Yekaterina.

She gasped and turned around. She looked surprised at first but her face quickly broke into a warm smile. Gilbert wanted to trust that smile, but he really wasn't sure if he could.

"Did you eat the varenyky then? I noticed the tray was moved."

Gilbert felt frozen to the spot, just staring at Ivan's busty older sister. "Did you poison it?" He shot at her, his mind constantly reminding him that if she had, he was wasting his time talking to her as it was probably getting further and further into his system.

She gave him a blank look, "Poison it?" she asked, "Why would I poison it?" She looked innocent enough but so did Ivan most of the time, even pretty, young Natalia had looked approachable at first.

He ran past her, hoping she wouldn't try to stop him, and into the bathroom. He had never tried to make himself throw up before, but he had a pretty good idea of how to do it. He rammed his fingers to the back of his throat and felt the burning sensation of acid rise in his body as he chucked up everything he had just eaten.

Yekaterina had come into the unlocked bathroom behind and she screamed, "Gilbert! What are you doing?" She knelt down beside him and poured him a glass of water from the sink. She handed it to him and started rubbing small circles in his back. He shied away from her and didn't accept the water.

Yekaterina sighed. "I know you must find it hard to trust me… I know what Ваня does to you." She frowned slightly, "He doesn't mean it, he just…he…" She didn't seem to know how to justify it and her eyes started becoming very moist.

"Don't cry again." Gilbert begged; it reminded him far too much of Ivan. But he shuffled slightly closer to her and took the water.

Her eyes stayed wet, but no tears fell and she smiled softly at him, "Drink that up and I'll go make you some borsch. You can watch me make it to make sure I don't put any, um, poison into it if you want."

Gilbert nodded and stood up. Yekaterina followed suit and started heading downstairs. Suddenly, an idea came to Gilbert, "Er, Miss Braginski?"

She laughed, "You can call me Yekaterina."

"Right, Yekaterina then. Do you speak Russian?" they had reached the kitchen by now and she turned to face him.

"Of course, I used to live in Russia."

"Could you, um, could you teach me Russian?"

She looked puzzled and opened one of the kitchen cupboards, "Why? I thought that would be the last language you'd want to know."

He shook his head, "I hate not knowing what's going on all the time, I want to know what the fuck Ivan's up to." Yekaterina looked slightly alarmed when he swore, but didn't say anything, "And sometimes he speaks to me in Russian, and I have no clue what he's saying, so I don't know how to respond…then he gets angry." His face twisted slightly at the thought and Yekaterina smiled at him again.

"Okay, shall we start now? I'm sure you've guessed that 'да' is yes by now, and 'нет' is no. So Gilbert," She beamed at him, "Would you like some borsch?"

He smiled weakly back at her, feeling a little weird as he replied, "да."

 _They were now sat on the floor of Ivan's lounge again. It had been a number of weeks since the incident with the verynyky, which Gilbert had learned was a popular dish in Eastern Europe, and he had started to learn bits and pieces of Russian. When Yekaterina wasn't around, he tried looking through some of the books that dominated the tall bookshelves in Ivan's house to try to grasp the weird alphabet._

 _"So it's Mat-ye-ri?" Gilbert asked._

 _Yekaterina nodded, "And father is отец."_

 _"Ot-yets?"_

 _Another nod._

 _Gilbert sighed and leaned his head on Yekaterina's shoulder, "I miss my отец."_

-

Gilbert set off for Ludwig's house at about three o'clock. He thought walking would be a nice change from taking the lift that Antonio had offered him, but in all honesty he spent the whole journey looking behind him constantly, expecting Ivan to appear at a street corner.

When he got to Ludwig's unscathed he breathed a sigh of relief and knocked the door. Thankfully, it was his little brother, and not Feliciano, who opened it this time.

"Hallo." Gilbert said.

Ludwig nodded back, "Hallo." He said, smiling slightly. He stood back to let Gilbert in, "How come you're here."

"Well, Dad invited me round to wherever he lives now…But I don't actually know where he lives. I was wondering if you could take me."

Ludwig's hand shot to his head and he pulled it through his ridiculously slicked-back hair, "Scheiße, I forgot all about that." He said and then continued when Gilbert simply looked confused, "He invited me and Feliciano over too. Didn't mention you'd be there though."

A few minutes later, Ludwig, Gilbert and Feliciano were completely ready and headed back outside. Feliciano sat in the passenger seat of the car so Gilbert instead went to the back. It was _slightly_ less uncomfortable than sitting in the front had been, at least he had a little more space.

He kept his gaze out of the window the whole jouney again, though, and couldn't help making sure that Ivan was no where to be seen. He was starting to feel a little nervous; with quite a few people in the house, it would be hard for him to have some time alone, which he craved so often since leaving Ivan.

Furthermore, he didn't have a clue what Julius, his father's partner, was like, but judging by the fact that Ludwig suggested that he 'annoyed' his father and how Feliciano acted, he assumed he was quite a touchy-feely person too. He squirmed slightly in his seat, he didn't want to end up freaking out in front of his father again, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to stop himself if Julius tried to touch him. Not only that, but Gilbert didn't really feel very confident about meeting many new people. Everyone he had willingly arranged to meet before now were people he had known before, people he trusted. Working in the bar would mean meeting a lot of new people, which was exactly why he had called in 'sick' the previous day. Arthur had been fine with it, thank goodness, he didn't want to lose his job already.

"Gilbert?" Ludwig shouted.

"Huh?"

"That's the third time I said your name."

"Right, sorry 'bout that, I spaced out a bit."

Ludwig sighed and opened the car door, "We're here." He said.

Gilbert was pretty sure his stomach was doing somersaults as he stepped out of the car; there wasn't any going back now.

The three of them walked up to the door. Well, Gilbert and Ludwig walked, Feliciano more skipped.

Ludwig knocked on the door and Aldrich appeared at the door within seconds, his tired face breaking out into a small, brief smile. "Ah, Hallo, I didn't expect you all to arrive together." He said as he stood aside to let them in.

"You didn't give me your address." Gilbert pointed out.

His Father looked surprised as he shut the door, "Oh, sorry, I assumed Ludwig had given it to you."

Ludwig blushed a bit, "Sorry, I didn't think to."

"Veh~ Is papà in?" Feliciano interjected, following them into the lounge.

Aldrich nodded, "He's in the kitchen I think."

Feliciano ran into the kitchen, obviously to greet him. Gilbert fell onto a sofa. Ludwig sat a little more carefully next to him before turning to his father, "Is Lovino coming round?"

"No, he said he was busy." Aldrich responded. Gilbert couldn't help noticing that Ludwig looked more than a little relieved at that.

Feliciano came back into the room, followed by a strong-looking man, whose wide grin didn't seem to match his imposing figure. Gilbert pushed that similarity to Ivan as far back in his mind as it would go.

Feliciano fell into Ludwig's lap, much to the latter's obvious embarassment. Although he didn't actually push him off, so he may not have been as bothered as he was trying to let on.

The man, who Gilbert guessed was Julius, smiled at him and held out his hand. Gilbert imagined his father had warned him not to try hugging him. "Ciao," He said, "You must be Gilbert, I've heard a lot about you."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows questioningly at his father before shaking Julius' hand, and winced slightly when the man shook it back quite furiously. He forced himself to smile back at him, "Hey, 'fraid I haven't heard much about you so far, Ludwig just said you annoyed Dad."

He glanced at Ludwig, who looked rather mortified. But Julius laughed it off, "Yup, that's my job around here." He grinned.

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening reached Gilbert's ears. He felt his heart stop for a second, who the hell was it?

"I'm home!" He heard the young boy from the phone call out. He ran into the room, his resemblance to Feliciano and Lovino was striking, so he must have been Julius' biological son, contrary to what Gilbert had orignally thought.

The boy, Paolo seemed to remember him introducing himself as, dropped his school bag in the doorway of the lounge before walking over to his father, "Hey Papà." He said, kissing him on the cheek. How Italian.

He then ran over to Aldrich and kissed him on the cheek too, "Hey Vati."

Gilbert felt a small stab of jealousy, that was what he had called his father when he was little, it felt so wrong to see a complete stranger to him being so close to his own father. He glanced around the room, at Ludwig and Feliciano cuddling on the couch, at Julius and his father greeting Paolo home from school. He suddenly felt like he didn't belong. He didn't feel as though he was part of this new family at all.

"Well, I should probably start cooking." Julius said, "I'll be in the kitchen if annyone needs me." He headed to the doorway, then paused and turned around again,, "Paolo, why don't you make everyone some drinks?"

The teenager rolled his eyes, "Fine, but I'm expecting extra pocket money for this."

Julius laughed, "What? so you can take Sarah out on a date?"

Paolo lightly punched him on the arm, "She'd turn me down again if I tried."

After taking everyone's drinks order, Paolo disappeared briefly, then reappeared with the drinks. He handed them out. When he got to Gilbert, he frowned, "So, er, who are you anyway?"

"I'm Gilbert." He nodded his head at Ludwig, "I'm Ludwig's brother, which would make me your stepbrother I guess."

Paolo looked at Aldrich, then back at Gilbert, "Huh, go figure. I thought you'd look more like your dad...And didn't you pretty much disappear of the face of the Earth?"

"Yeah, but I'm back, so you're gonna have to put up with me."

Paolo grinned at him, "I think I can do that." He flopped on the couch next to him. Oh lord, Gilbert got the impression he was one of those younger kids who immediately assumed they were your best friend as soon as they met you. But he didn't want to jump to conclusions, he had only just met the boy after all, and he was nice enough.

Nevertheless, the couch now felt a little crowded, so Gilbert stood up, "I might go see if I can help Julius with the food."

He saw his father's shoulders relax slightly as he headed out the room.

The kitchen was large, even more so than Francis and Antonio's. Julius was standing near the hob, pouring some pasta into a large saucepan. He turned when Gilbert walked in the room, "Hey."

Gilbert walked nearer to him, he could feel his palms sweating a bit and wiped them on his trousers. Being in the same room alone with a man he didn't know wasn't the most comfortable situation Gilbert had ever been in. But his father trusted this man, enough to marry him, so Gilbert tried to relax. He leaned against the kitchen counter, "Anything I can help with?"

Julius smiled at him, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Gilbert wasn't entirely sure, but he thought the man looked rather nervous himself. "It's alright," He said, "You don't need to do anything." He waved his hand towards the lounge, "Make yourself at home."

Gilbert shrugged and lifted himself onto a stool. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

"Not at all." Julius said.

The room fell silent for a short while as Gilbert just watched his stepfather –wow, it felt weird to think of him as that, he barely knew him – cook. Eventually, Julius turned around and blurted, "You don't think I'm-" He stopped.

Gilbert cocked his head to the side, "What?"

"You don't think I'm trying to replace your mother or anything do you?"

Oh, so that was what he was worrying about. Gilbert shook his head. "No, I hardly remember her." An image of Yekaterina swam into his head. Hurt, he pushed it away, she had abandoned him anyway. He smiled at Julius, "You seem pretty cool to me."

Julius looked very relieved. But then he started walking towards Gilbert. Without thinking, except for the fact that a man he had just met was coming far too close, Gilbert tried to run away, but ended up falling off the stool he had been sitting on and smashing his head against the side. He cried out and Julius quickly crouched down, "Are you alright?" He asked, reaching out his hand to check if Gilbert's head was bleeding.

He flinched away from Julius. He was too close. Far too close. Julius's face changed to a slightly hurt expression as he drew his hand back.

Aldrich looked in the room, "Is everything alright in here? I heard shouting."

Julius indicated to Gilbert, "He fell off the stool and whacked his head; I think he'll be alright though."

Gilbert looked up at his father's slightly concerned face, "Seriously Dad, I'm fine." He pulled himself to his feet, "My head just hurts a little."

Aldrich nodded and disappeared again. Gilbert turned to Julius again, "Sorry about that…I, er, I'm not that great with people."

Julius looked very unconvinced but nodded and turned his attention back to cooking. Gilbert felt awful, he really hadn't wanted to make Julius feel unwelcome around him but his body seemed to act without him wanting it to sometimes, trying to get away from any possible dangers.

The rest of the evening passed reasonably calmly, but Gilbert could tell that things between him and Julius were a little awkward, and it might be a long time before he actually trusted him.

-

As everyone was saying their goodbyes, Aldrich leaned over to Julius, "That didn't go too badly, did it?"

Julius smiled back at him, but it wasn't his usual carefree grin. Aldrich frowned and waved at his sons as they drove off. He waited until the car had turned the corner before he turned to his partner, "Something's wrong." He stated bluntly.

Julius shook his head, "I'm fine, it was nice to finally meet Gilbert."

Aldrich narrowed his eyes at him, "Did he say something to you?"

"No, no." He sighed, "I just get the impression he doesn't like me very much." He said as they walked back inside the house.

Aldrich's expression softened, "How come?"

"You know when he fell of the stool earlier? That's because he looked like he was trying to half jump off it when I went near to him. And he flinched whenever I came within a metre of him." Julius sounded slightly upset.

Aldrich smiled at him and comfortingly touched his arm, "If it's any consolation, he had a minor panic attack when I touched him." Julius looked up at him, surprised. Aldrich continued, "So I don't think it's anything to do with you."

He fell into an armchair and sighed, "It's something to do with _him_. Gilbert, that is. Something must have happened to him, but he always insists that he's fine." Now Aldrich sounded upset, which hadn't happened very often since he had been living with Julius.

Julius balanced on the arm of the chair and pulled Aldrich towards him, "I'm sure it's nothing too bad." He assured him, but judging by Gilbert's terrified expression simply when he was trying to help him, Julius was certain that that wasn't the case.


	9. Changes

Gilbert glanced up at the Kirkland's pub, he was quite chuffed with himself that he had even remembered where it was.

It was reasonably quiet when he went inside, but then it was mid-afternoon so that was understandable. As he entered, Arthur looked up, "About bloody time."

Gilbert grinned at him, "Good to see you too."

Mathias was sitting at the bar with a large glass of beer in front of him and also looked up as his friend walked in, "Hej Gilbert!" Gilbert nodded at him and walked over to Arthur

The afternoon and evening went by without much ado; Gilbert was pleased that he had been able to work without completely freaking out. Although, now that it was getting later, he was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable in a room filled with a lot of people who had had a bit too much to drink.

Maybe working in a bar wasn't for him after all.

He picked up some empty glasses from a table and went back behind the bar where Arthur had just finished serving someone.

Gilbert leant his forearms on the bar and turned to his younger friend, "I thought your mother owned this pub," He said, trying to stimulate conversation, "And your siblings too, how come they're not around?"

Arthur froze. Mathias – who was still there, despite him not actually working that day – glanced worriedly up at him.

Gilbert panicked, "Er, have I asked a really bad question?"

Mathias pulled a face but Arthur shook his head, "It's fine, I forgot you didn't know…" He looked around the pub, "I think we'll be alright to stop for a drink for a little while, do you want anything?"

Gilbert nodded, "Beer would be good, thanks." He said as he sat down next to Mathias. Arthur poured Gilbert some beer and himself some rum before joining them.

Arthur sighed, "Three years ago, on my eldest brother's birthday, James had a little too much to drink." Arthur looked down at his rum then, looking slightly put off, "He gets violent when he's drunk, and I'm taking even more violent than he usually is. He started taking it out on mum…he ended up smashing her round the head with a bottle. He killed her." Arthur finished gloomily.

"What happened to your other siblings though?" Gilbert glanced around, "I thought they'd still be working here with you."

"Well, James went to jail, naturally, the bastard." Arthur sounded angry now, "Rhys was too upset by mum's death to stick around, so he moved to Wales. Shannon and Patrick stayed for a bit but about a year later they had a big, and rather public I might add, argument."

"Really?" Gilbert asked, genuinely surprised, "They seemed kinda close at school."

"Yeah, well they don't even talk to each other anymore, Shannon doesn't talk to any of us. Patrick e-mails occasionally…but I don't hear much from any of them…so I was left here to look after the pub, not that I mind," He smiled, "I like it here."

Mathias gave Arthur a very strong whack on the shoulder. Gilbert assumed it was supposed to be comforting. Arthur smiled briefly up at Mathias before downing his rum.

Gilbert frowned, "Seems like we've all had it pretty rough."

Arthur looked taken aback, "What happened to you? Something to do with Roderich and Elisaveta?"

"No, something else." Gilbert mumbled before drinking some beer.

"Well, if my sources are correct, that's the first time you've come close to admitting something is actually wrong."

"Would your 'sources' by any chance be Francis?"

Arthur nodded.

Gilbert scowled, "Well tell him to mind his own fucking business."

Arthur raised his abnormally thick eyebrows. There was a slightly awkward air until Mathias muttered something.

"Hmm?" Arthur looked at him quizzically.

"When you were telling Gilbert about your siblings, you didn't mention Peter." Mathias said, louder and clearer this time.

Gilbert slammed his hand down on the table, "I knew you had another brother! Yeah, what happened to him?"

Arthur grimaced, "Well, all of us were deemed unfit to bring him up, mostly because of our drinking habits…he was adopted by the Oxenstierna's, you know, the couple who own the little café in town?"

Gilbert shook his head, "I haven't been into town for ages."

"Ah, of course. Well, he was adopted and he seems to be doing well." Arthur looked down, "But you can tell he loves his new parents more than he ever loved me." Arthur sniffed "I'm such an awful big brother."

Gilbert smiled reassuringly at him, "I didn't even stick around to see Ludwig growing up…but I was kind of an awesome brother to him before that."

Arthur groaned and his head fell onto the bar. Gilbert decided it would be best to change the subject, "So, er, what happened about Alfred?"

Arthur sat back up, but he didn't look cheerful, "He's staying with a different friend now, I've hardly seen him." Arthur poured himself another rum and drained it before he said, "But he hasn't taken all of his stuff yet…maybe he'll come back."

Mathias whacked the little blond on the shoulder again, "You can do better than him Arthur! Find someone who actually likes you."

Arthur glared at him, "Says you." He shot.

Mathias dropped his arm, "He does like me back, he just….he said he needed time."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Five months seems like a bloody long time to me, maybe you should move on."

Mathias broke out into his usual grin, "I'd wait forever for Lukas!"

"Oh. Oh dear. I have a feeling you might have to."

-

Toris walked up the familiar steps to Ivan's front door. He knocked and stood patiently outside. Ivan had left him waiting for an hour before so he was surprised, but pleased, when the door opened almost immediately.

Ivan smiled at him, "Afternoon, Toris."

"Ivan." Toris inclined his head towards him as he walked inside, "What do you need me for?"

Ivan simply smiled again and walked into the kitchen. Toris took this as an invitation to follow him.

Ivan stood looking thoughtfully out of the window for a couple of minutes before his he turned his head in Toris's direction, "Gilbert's not here anymore," He said in his slightly feminine voice.

Toris feigned shock; he wasn't exactly going to tell Ivan that he already knew that, or that Gilbert looked considerably healthier now that he was free. "How come?" He asked.

Ivan pouted, "I don't know. He left me."

Toris sighed, "I thought you were becoming bored of him anyway."

"That doesn't mean he can just leave!" Ivan raised his voice slightly, the anger obvious in his tone. Toris went very quiet.

Ivan seemed to calm down slightly before he continued, "You told me threatening someone close to him would keep him here…that hasn't worked now, has it?"

Toris could have screamed; he hadn't suggested anything of the sort! Ivan was doing exactly the same to him. But Ivan needed someone to blame, he didn't want to believe that it was his fault that something had gone wrong, he was just like a child.

Ivan glowered at Toris, "You told me it would work!"

Toris had reached his boiling point now, "No I didn't Ivan! You're making this up!"

Ivan looked even angrier and strode over to Toris, then he paused and smiled, a slow, disconcerting smile that made Toris's stomach turn.

"Well, we'll see about that." He said softly.

Toris heard the front door open. He glanced down the hallway, Natalia, Ivan's beautiful half-sister had just entered the house, and behind her was – no!

Toris spun back round to Ivan, "Why is Feliks here?"

Ivan's smile widened. Natalia walked into the kitchen with Feliks. Feliks grinned at Toris, "Oh hey, Toris! This lady here told me you needed me for something. It is important, right? 'Cause I, like, totally just found the cutest skirt, ever and I really, really wanna buy it!"

Toris glared at Ivan, "Please don't do anything to him," He could hear the words coming out sounding strangled but he didn't care, "Please, I haven't done anything!"

Feliks looked confused for a second but then Natalia brought out her knife and pressed it against the blond's neck. "Move," She said, "And I'll fucking cut you."

Feliks eyes widened in fear and he looked at Toris. Feliks looked so helpless, and Toris felt a pain growing in his chest, he carried on talking to Ivan, "Ivan, don't let your sister hurt him, please."

Ivan giggled, "Oh, don't worry Toris, that's just a safety precaution."

Toris looked confused. Ivan glared at him again, "It's you I'm angry at. You told me it would work!"

"For the last time, I didn't!" He could feel himself shaking.

Ivan pouted, "Even if you didn't, you _showed_ me it worked, why has it worked on you, and not on Gilbert?" So stubborn! Toris sometimes wondered if a part of Ivan's brain just stopped developing when he was five years old, he always had to have his way, and he was never wrong. Ever.

Toris bit his lip, "I don't know why it stopped working on him…this has nothing to do with me." He pointed at Feliks, "Or him."

"Toris," Feliks said, scared, "What's going on? Who is this guy? I thought you were a doctor?"

Ivan looked at Natalia, who pressed the knife slightly into Feliks's neck, "Shut up." She said, "No one wants to hear your whining." Feliks let out a little gasp but then went utterly silent.

Toris sighed inwardly; he couldn't really see a way out of this situation, Ivan was angry, _mad_. He needed to take his anger out on something…and Toris knew that if he succeeded in talking his way out of it, someone else would get hurt, maybe even poor little Raivis, and he was only a teenager. He looked at Feliks, "Feliks," He said fondly, but his voice was shaking, "No matter what happens, just stay there, just do as they say, and you'll be fine."

"But, what about you?"

"Feliks, just stay there, please."

Feliks didn't anything, but the look in his eyes told Toris that he would be nodding if he didn't have a knife so precariously placed across his throat.

Toris turned back to Ivan. Ivan grinned, "Good! Are we co-operating now?"

Ivan picked up the metal pipe that Toris always saw leaning against the kitchen cupboards, he turned it over in his hands a few times. Toris gulped; he dreaded to think what Ivan used that for.

Ivan pulled one of his hands away from his beloved pipe and twirled it slightly in the air, "Turn around." He ordered, his tone had turned back to its dark, angry form.

Toris obeyed, and as soon as he did he felt a blinding pain go across his back, he let out a small scream but stopped as soon as he saw Feliks's face. Natalia pressed the knife even further into his neck so that a small trickle of blood fell down it, "You'd better keep you eyes open." She said maliciously.

He felt the pain across his back again, he assumed it was the pipe, but it seemed like Ivan had reinforced it with something sharp as Toris felt his skin rip open and blood begin to pour down his back. Ivan hit him again, but he didn't cry out at all, just bit his tongue; he couldn't let Feliks know how much agony he was in.

Ivan spoke up then, "Toris, you're a doctor, da? You're supposed to be clever, so tell - Me - Why - Gilbert - Left!" Between every word, Ivan struck him again, and each time slightly harder, Toris could feel his whole back screaming for it to stop and an image of Gilbert burning on the same floor swam into his mind. Oh, the irony.

His mouth was warm with his own blood now and he spat it out before answering, "Ivan, I don't deal…with psychological things… you'd have to…ask someone…else…" He could barely string a few words together. He felt so pitiful, "Don't you…have a therapist…or something?"

Ivan stopped, "Yes, and he's more trustworthy than you…get out of my sight." He grabbed the top of Toris now very shirt and yanked him out of the room.

Natalia threw Feliks out after him, looking slightly disappointed that she didn't get to kill him. As they ran out the house, Toris heard Ivan say in his innocent voice, as if nothing had happened, "Goodbye, Toris!"

Toris fell to the ground as soon as they left the house. Feliks dropped down next to him and caught him. He burst into sobs, "What the hell was that about? I totally didn't realise you're boss was such a sicko…"

Toris didn't respond and Feliks cried harder, " Toris? Toris? Please, like, say something!" He rested his head on Toris's soft brown hair, "Please don't die!"

Toris buried his head into Feliks's chest, "I'm not dead, silly." He said, trying to sound upbeat, and failing miserably. Feliks pulled out his phone but Toris weakly grabbed his arm, "Don't. Don't call anyone, not the police, not the hospital, no one."

Feliks pulled his face away slightly and looked at Toris like he was crazy, "Of course I'm phoning the police! Look what he did to you!"

Toris took the phone out of his hand, "No, you can't. Ivan's probably got people in the police force…he'll end up hurting more people if we get him into any trouble."

"But that's, like, totally not fair!"

Toris smiled weakly up at his lover, "Life isn't always fair Feliks." He said before he saw the world spinning slightly and he passed out.

-

Gilbert stared at his alarm clock. About half an hour had gone by since he had woken up, but he really couldn't be bothered to move. He sighed and shifted his position slightly; he hadn't slept well, again. He was getting sick of his constant nightmares and it was making him so damn tired.

He sat up and yawned. He glanced around his room, and laughed softly. He had only been here a few weeks, yet he had managed to make it a complete tip. He supposed he should get round to tidying it.

He got out of bed and picked up his jeans that were strewn on the floor. A piece of paper was sticking out the top of one of the pockets. Curious, he pulled it out, only to discover it was just the list of phone numbers. He was about to throw it aside, but noticed Elisaveta's number scrawled at the end of the list in his handwriting. Damn, he had forgotten about that.

He glanced again at the time, she would be at work, but he was pretty sure she wasn't working non-stop all day so he tried calling her.

"Hello?" He heard her say

"Hey Hungary," He still felt weird calling her Elisaveta, the name Hungary seemed so much more familiar to him, "It's Gilbert, I was wondering if you were free tomorrow"

"Oh, hey Gilbert!" She replied, sounding happy, but slightly irritated "You do realise you've called me whilst I'm at work?"

"Yup."

"Asshole." She said it with a smile in her voice; Gilbert doubted she meant it at all. "Anyway, yes I'm pretty sure I'm free tomorrow, and it might be nice to have a break, do you have any idea how stressful planning a wedding is?" She laughed, "Do you know where Tino's is in town?"

"Nope, no idea. I, er, I actually haven't been around for a long time…that's why your fiancé's so ticked off with me."

"That's cool, you're living with Antonio, right? I can pick you up."

Oh. Great. More car journeys.

"Awesome." He lied, "What time? 'Cause otherwise I won't even wake up."

She laughed again, "How about 10 o'clock?"

"Great, see you then."

"Yeah…and Gilbert?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"Huh? For what?"

She sighed "For wanting to see me again after I kind of just left you as a kid."

Gilbert smiled, "It's fine, it doesn't really bother me, it was a long time ago."

"…It still bothers me though, so thank you."

"Right, well see you tomorrow then, yeah?"

"Yeah..see you." Gilbert heard something in the background behind Elisaveta and she laughed, "Antonio says hi!"

"Tell him to get back to work, the lazy git." He laughed as he hung the phone up.

The next day, after another uncomfortable ride in a car, Gilbert and Elisaveta headed into a very saccharine little café, it was decorated with incredibly cutesy blue and white furniture. It wasn't really to Gilbert's tastes, and he couldn't really see Elisaveta liking somewhere like this, but she looked delighted.

She headed straight over to the counter and Gilbert followed her, he whispered into her ear, "I didn't expect you to like somewhere so…"He searched for a suitable word, "…Girly." He finished lamely.

She smiled up at him, "But the staff here are amazing." There was something slightly disconcerting about her smile.

A small man walked over to the counter, "Ah, hello Elisaveta!" He glanced quickly at Gilbert and smiled, "Not here with Roderich then today?"

"No, he's got an important rehearsal at the moment."

The man nodded, "What are you ordering, the usual?"

Elisaveta nodded and turned to Gilbert, "What do you want?"

"Uh, a cappuccino would be good."

"No cakes or anything?"

"Oh, yeah, actually, I'd love some."

"Which one?"

He smiled, "Surprise me."

The man who was serving them started making the drinks, and Elisaveta went back to talking to him, "How's Berwald?"

The man smiled fondly, "He's fine, he's just taking Peter to a friend's house at the moment." Elisaveta's face fell slightly and Gilbert suddenly remembered Arthur talking about the 'Oxenstiernas' who had adopted his brother…

He looked at the small man, "You don't happen to be the Oxenstiernas, do you?"

The man smiled, "Yup, I'm Tino Oxenstierna; I own this place with my husband, Berwald." Oh, so that's why Elisaveta liked the staff here, she probably enjoyed watching the couple interacting. And it still really weirded him out that there was a guy talking about his 'husband', although it was pretty awesome.

"Ah, cool, well hey Tino." He smiled, "I'm a friend of Arthur Kirkland's, that's why I was wondering."

Tino beamed as he put the drinks and cakes onto a tray, "Arthur hasn't been round much recently, Peter misses him I think…we'll have to invite him round for tea sometime soon!" He clapped his hands together at the last bit and Elisaveta pulled out her purse.

Gilbert stopped her, "It's alright. I, er, I'll pay."

A strange look flashed across Tino's face. Elisaveta smiled at Gilbert, "It's fine, no need to be a gentleman."

They paid and headed over to a small table by the window. Elisaveta smiled, "I love sitting here," She said, picking up her coffee, "It means I can watch people outside and look at Tino and Berwald being adorable."

Gilbert snorted. He knew it.

There was silence for a couple of seconds, before Gilbert started talking, "So, um, this is gonna be really awkward, but did you have sex change? Or are you, like….what's the word…transgender?"

Elisaveta looked down at her coffee and swirled it slightly with a teaspoon, "First of all, you can't technically _have_ a sex change, it's gender reassignment, your sex is in your chromosomes."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows, "Nerd," He grinned.

"But no, I didn't have an operation or anything, I was always biologically female." She said, lifting the coffee up to her lips again. "And I wouldn't say I was transgender either; I'm comfortable identifying as a woman."

Gilbert was thoroughly confused, "Then why the hell did you act like a guy when you were younger?"

She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat and picked at the cake in front of her, "Because I feel comfortable identifying as guy too."

"So, er, what does that make you exactly?"

She dropped the cake fork she was holding, "I don't know Gilbert! Does everything need a friggin' label?"

He flinched slightly at her raised voice. Her expression softened again, "I'm sorry."

"How come you never told me when we were kids?"

"Well, at first I didn't even realise that I wasn't a boy. I mean, I went outside and played with all the other guys, whilst all the girls I knew tended to stay indoors, I didn't actually understand the difference," She blushed slightly, "That's what you get with super-religious parents I suppose. By the time I did realise that I was a girl, that incident with Lily had happened."

Gilbert looked confused. "Huh?"

"You don't remember? She wanted to play with us one day, but you told her that girls weren't allowed, that they should just go home and play with dolls."

"Aww, come on! I was, like, seven!"

She smiled, "Yeah, I know, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, I'm just explaining why I didn't tell you. I was too scared, I thought you'd stop wanting to see me, I was scared you'd abandon me." She frowned and drank more coffee. "So when my parents told me I was going to a private school for girls, I abandoned you." She blushed again, a little more furiously this time, "And I'll be honest, I had a huge crush on you when I was little." she laughed, "But I was pretty sure you were gay."

"What? Why did you think that?"

"Well," she looked up at him, "You liked me too, right?"

He didn't say anything, but Elisaveta didn't seem to mind, she continued, "But you saw me as a guy…and I bet you still do, right? It must be weird seeing me in these clothes." She glanced down at the skirt she was wearing and muttered, "This was a bad idea." She stood up.

"Hungary! Don't go, this isn't a bad idea…I just…it might take me a little while to come to terms with the fact that you're female."

"Yeah, and then what will you do?" A look of anger crossed her face, but it didn't seem directed at him, "Treat me like I'm just there to fuck? Like I'm not a person?" Gilbert had know idea why she had suddenly gone all feminist on him.

"Er, Hungary?" She didn't look at him and started heading out the café. "Elisaveta!" She turned around, a look of small surprise present on her face.

She smiled slightly at him, "That's the first time you've called me that, you know."

He walked over to her, "Look, I don't give two shits whether you're a guy, or you're a girl, or somewhere in between, or whatever." He ruffled the back of his hair awkwardly, "I don't want to know you just to sleep with you…we can be just friends, that's cool."

She smiled at him again, this time a little wider and moved forward to hug him. Gilbert stepped back quickly and she laughed softly, "I don't mind you _hugging_ me, Gilbert"

Gilbert shook his head, "It's not that, I just…I'm not good with hugging."

She frowned, "How come?"

He shook his head, "Another time."

She smiled again, "So can we meet up again soon?"

"Sure, how about sometime this week? Once you've finished work or something."

"Okay, I'll call you. Come on, I've got stuff I need to do this afternoon, I'll drive you home."

"Thanks" Gilbert said as he followed Elisaveta out of the café.


End file.
